


DYWYPI?

by Zumberge



Category: Nethack (Video Game), Original Work
Genre: (because Nethack just has an excuse plot and nothing else), Bondage, Come Inflation, Consentacles, Don't Have to Know Canon, F/F, F/M, Giantess - Freeform, Growth, Large Insertion, Macrophilia, Masturbation, Microphilia, Object Insertion, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Shrinking, Slime, Succubi & Incubi, Tentacles, Transformation, Weight Gain, ssbbw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 12:34:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 29,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16095773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zumberge/pseuds/Zumberge
Summary: Young wizard Shayla DuLac descends into the Dungeons of Doom on a quest from her god to obtain the Amulet of Yendor, and ends up getting turned into a slimegirl and engaging in sexy shenanigans.





	1. Chapter 1

_It is written in the Book of Thoth:_

_After the Creation, the cruel god Moloch rebelled_  
against the authority of Marduk the Creator.  
Moloch stole from Marduk the most powerful of all  
the artifacts of the gods, the Amulet of Yendor,  
and he hid it in the dark cavities of Gehennom, the  
Under World, where he now lurks, and bides his time. 

_Your god Thoth seeks to possess the Amulet, and with it  
to gain deserved ascendance over the other gods._

_You, a newly trained Evoker, have been heralded_  
from birth as the instrument of Thoth. You are destined  
to recover the Amulet for your deity, or die in the  
attempt. Your hour of destiny has come. For the sake  
of us all: Go bravely with Thoth! 

*****

Shayla DuLac slowly descended the stone staircase, scanning the dimly-lit room before her with blue-green eyes. She held one arm out before her, prepared to bring the full force of her powers to bear on any who sought to oppose her. Although to be fair, these powers didn't amount to much, but they had developed rapidly since she entered the dungeon several days ago and she knew that in time she would prove herself worthy of the destiny set before her.

After confirming that the chamber was free of hostile life Shayla pulled back the hood on her cloak and let out a sigh of relief, brushing back her thick braid of blonde hair. Things had been strangely mundane near the surface, but as she descended deeper The last few floors had been oddly full of feral cats, dogs and ponies, and quite frankly she was starting to get a little sick of it. What kind of person would abandon their pets down here, anyway?

Suddenly something whistled past her ear, clattering against the wall in front of her and breaking apart in a shower of splinters. Whirling, she spotted an orc wielding a crude shortbow, which let out a shout of rage in some fell tongue. As it reached into its quiver for another arrow she traced a pattern in the air before her with practiced ease. There was a loud "thwoompf" as the air seemed to buckle in front of the orc and its head snapped backwards, blood pouring from its nose. Another series of gestures hurled it to the floor, hitting the ground with a sickening snapping sound as its limbs spasmed briefly in its death throes.

Shayla grinned, blowing an imaginary wisp of smoke off the end of her finger. Crossing the room to the orc's body, she began the task of picking through its belongings for anything of value. "Value" was usually a very low bar when it came to orcs, and this one was no different: Filthy metal armor, an equally filthy helm, crude bow, crude arrows and an unlabeled tin of... something. Shaking it didn't produce any sort of clunking or sloshing noise, not that it would have helped figure out if it were poisonous or not. The orc probably considered it food, though again, "food" was a low bar when it came to orcs. Shoving it into her pack, she made a mental note to save it for an emergency.

The emergency came a bit quicker than she had expected: No more than two hours later she had stumbled upon a nest of various undead. Judging from the black-robed remains that many of the zombies were standing around they may have been the work of an unlucky necromancer, but Shayla didn't have much time to ponder this between running for her life and striking down her pursuers with her still-somewhat-inadequate mastery over the primal forces of reality itself. Eventually she managed to wedge shut a few doors between her and what remained of the horde with some scavenged throwing daggers, giving her a breather as well as a chance to soothe her empty stomach.

After a bit of struggling she managed to pry the top of the tin open with her athame, revealing a thick, translucent green gel with a scent that was a cross between moss and pine cones. It didn't look like it was eating through the can, so that was a good sign. On the other hand, it _was_ green. Some sort of processed fungus, maybe?

"Orc food," she reassured herself. "Orc food."

It didn't taste poisonous - she would know, having been poisoned at least three times since she entered - but it was sickeningly sweet and had a strange consistency; it was sticky but only stuck to itself, slipping off her fingers half the time whenever she tried eating it, and she didn't really swallow it so much as have it slide down her throat. Still, food was food, and she did feel a little better for having something in her stomach, even if the aftertaste offset that somewhat. Tossing the can to the side, she wiped her hands off on her cloak and continued on her way.

As she was walking down one of the numerous hallways a sudden wave of dizziness came over her, sending her staggering into the wall. Shaking her head in an attempt to clear out the cobwebs Shayla continued on, one hand on the wall for balance. Food poisoning again, she thought. It'll pass in a couple minutes.

She shook her head again, brushing back a lock of hair that had fallen in front of her face. She was having trouble walking straight, and had she been able to think clearly she may have noticed that her skin was taking on a pale green tinge. Her legs were beginning to feel shaky and she leaned into the wall for support, unaware of the thin trails of slime she left on the stone with her hands.

The hallway opened into a smaller chamber and she slowly lurched out into it, arms dangling by her sides. The dizziness had passed, giving way to a full-body numbness, and it felt as if her form was having trouble supporting its own weight: Her limbs seemed weak and boneless, and she could feel her clothes weighing her down, the coarse fabric sliding against her as she moved. Even her thoughts seemed sluggish, like her brain was slowly turning to mush.

She was dimly aware of a green lock of hair sliding down in front of her face, which hung there for a few seconds before a wobbly limb swung up to bat it away. Jus food poisnin, she thought.

Her boot caught on the edge of a metal grate. The floor slowly rose up to meet her.

Itlpasinacouplaminits.

Shayla's vision darkened, and the last thing she heard before the world disappeared was a wet, heavy splash.

*****

Shayla woke in a fog, her senses distorted: She felt the damp dungeon floor across her body, cold yet not chilling her. She could make out the torches on the walls, small pin-pricks of light in a murky blur, but all else was darkness. Her limbs felt disconnected, as if they were both there and not there at once.

With no small amount of effort she raised her head and her vision seemed to narrow, growing more focused as it shifted. The blur resolved into dark grey brick walls lined with burning braziers, a stone tile floor and... a pool of dark green slime, the latter of which she was lying in. Her memory of the past few... however long it was was fuzzy at best, but after eating whatever was in that can she must've thrown it all up before passing out in it. Great, she thought. Champion of the gods and I can't even keep my dignity.

There was a thick, barely audible churning sound as she leaned back, familiar sensations returning as her arms and torso made themselves known to her again, and she could feel the caress of cool air across her bare shoulders and chest.

Wait... bare shoulders and chest?

She looked down at herself and let out a scream. Her slender form was now formed of translucent green goo, her breasts large twin domes topped with deep emerald nipples. Her waist tapered in slightly before flaring out into a pool nearly four feet across that Shayla thought was a filled pit but soon realized was the rest of her body. Reaching behind her, she pulled her braid into view to find that it, too, had suffered the same fate as the rest of her, the mass having taken on a hue several shades deeper than the rest of her. She gave the end of it a slight tug, watching it stretch out and sag between her hands with a slowly growing sense of fear.

"Oh Thoth, I'm hallucinating." She slapped herself to try and jolt herself out of it, but only succeeded in sending a ripple through her body. She slowly pulled her hand away, staring at the thin, sticky strings of goo that hung between it and her cheek. "Oh Thoth, I'm _not_ hallucinating."

She was scared, but then it dawned on her that she was feeling fear. Green slime didn't feel anything, but _she_ did! She could feel, and think, and... and maybe...

She extended her hand, palm up, and focused. Almost instantly, a small glowing sphere appeared above it, the light filtering through her and casting shimmering patterns across the room.

Dismissing the sphere, Shayla let out a cry of triumph. Even if she wasn't physically human, she still had a mind and a body and her formidable mastery of the elements, and that was enough. She was changed, but she was still alive, and as long as she was still alive there was still a chance of success. Besides, she thought, there had to have been a polymorph trap down here somewhere. Or maybe a quantum engineer; she could explain what happened and... no, no, they were all in the next dungeon over. But still, she could do it!

She rose up, slim hips and ass forming from the pool beneath as her breasts bobbed from the sudden movement. It was about this time that she was suddenly made aware of her chest feeling a bit heavier than she was used to. Looking down at herself she poked one of her breasts, causing it to jiggle slightly. Were they _always_ this big? She poked it again, more forcefully this time, and it continued to shake for several seconds before finally coming to rest. Did they _always_ move this much?

This wasn't the time for that, though. She had an amulet to find and a destiny to achieve!

With a renewed sense of optimism, she surveyed her new environs: She had ended up in a large square room, which described most of the dungeon, though this one was larger and squarer than any she'd seen before. The grate she fell through was at least four or five floors above her, judging from how distant and faint the light coming from it seemed. A quick scan of the walls showed no exits, or at least no visible ones. There had to be a hidden doorway, then - that was just how things worked in here, after all - though she couldn't even begin to guess how long it would take to find it.

Grumbling as her optimism slowly faded, she slid forward to try and start her search, only to come to an abrupt stop as she felt something long, hard and cool brushing along the inside of her as her entire body suddenly felt alight. She let out a cry as she fell forward, holding herself up on shaky arms. The sensation wasn't entirely unfamiliar; she _had_ touched herself before (assuring herself that it was simply a phase all healthy young women went through) but it was never quite that... _intense_.

Straightening out, she looked down at herself: Slim, translucent hips bobbed over a thick pool of green goo, the cleft of her sex just below the surface. Shayla raised herself up a few inches, her thighs forming out of the slime below her, and moved back and forth experimentally, feeling the stone slide beneath what felt like her feet. Lowering herself down again, she swayed her hips and was rewarded with another jolt.

"Wow..." she said breathlessly, "I guess that answers that question..."

So she knew that it was her, and it was wherever she was in it. Or rather, she was wherever she was in it, and- ...this is getting hard to explain, Shayla thought. But at least now she knew how it worked. She also knew that it felt good. Very, very good. But she couldn't do it here, could she? Certainly not now, could she?

She glanced around the room a second time. No doors. No monsters. No sounds. No interruptions. She bit her lip. _Should_ she?

...

"...fuck it."

She began swaying her hips again, sliding back and forth across the floor. She tried her best to focus on moving her new form outward and was rewarded when the pool slowly began to spread across the stonework, the feelings growing in intensity the further she went. Her eyes fluttered as she lay forward, taking in this new experience. In her mind's eye she saw one of the young knights from her home town, tanned and well-endowed, taking her from behind and thrusting into her, swelling larger with each stroke and stretching her body with it, an ever-increasing cycle of him growing to please her and his growth giving her more to be pleasured.

She pressed herself against the ground, willing her body to continue to grow. Her arms melted into her form and she spread another few inches. Her breasts and torso were pulled under, shifting and merging with the rest of her sex. Her head sank below the surface and her vision grew blurry again, but she could still feel, and that was all that mattered. The only remaining signs of her once-human form were the curves of her ass and a half-submerged slit rocking back and forth in a sea of green glass that continued to creep towards the walls. Even if something was there to see her, even if something knew what was happening Shayla wouldn't have cared. She was lost in a haze, driven entirely by desire and just plain horny as fuck, wanting nothing more than to see how far her sensitive new form could take her.

Soon her body was spread to its limit, a thin green film covering yards upon yards of the stone chamber, a film that was yards upon yards of _her_ , her body, her sex, moving and pulsing against the floor. The knight of her fantasy had grown far beyond human proportions and had become a long, hard pillar within her, her body spreading out further and further to envelop his cock as it continued to grow, pounding her endlessly as she neared the end. The flood of stimulation overwhelmed her, yet left her so close to the edge. All she needed was one more push...

Desperately seeking release, Shayla strained to focus her powers. What once came as second nature to her felt like an eternity to her overtaxed mind, but she managed to muster up the faintest spark of power. Small though it was, it was more than enough to fuel the action that would grant her the release she so desired: A single, gentle brush upon her clit.

Her ass quivered violently before melting into her form, and her body surged outward in a final burst of explosive, climactic growth. Shayla let out a silent scream as her body rippled before cascading inward on itself, crashing together over and over in a shower of green droplets; a final series of orgasmic bursts before exhaustion overwhelmed her and her consciousness faded.

*****

The world was again a hazy blur when Shayla awoke, her mind still buzzing from the afterglow. Her head rose up out of the pool of her body and she found herself staring at the ceiling, thinking about what just transpired. She lazily turned her head to the side, staring out towards the wall over a clear green pond. The room was just as large as she remembered it.

Her torso and arms rose out of the slime, and she gently brushed her fingertips along the inside of her thighs.

...and she had been as large as the room. And it felt wonderful.

Despite herself, she found herself wondering what else her new form could do, and a myriad of possibilities flooded her mind. Doubtless, there were numerous incubi within the dungeon that would be willing to assist her in her endeavors, and although she wasn't like _that_ , she could try and avail herself of a succubus as well. Maybe once or twice. Or a few times more, if it worked out really well. Possibly an ochre jelly too, if an opportunity presented itself. It was important to keep an open mind, after all.

"Man... I could get used to this..."


	2. Chapter 2

Deep within the bowels of the earth there was a door: Large, wooden, sturdy and kept shut by an equally large and sturdy lock. It was situated on the side of a large stone room, barring entrance to or egress from the long stone corridor beyond. The door, room, and corridor were part of a larger arrangement of doors, rooms and corridors linked by stairs, pits and tunnels, all coming together to form an unimaginably vast dungeon. This dungeon was in turn filled with an unimaginable variety of creatures, valuables and, in a more intangible sense, peril and destiny.

But back to the door.

The door sat there, closed and unmoving. Suddenly the knob began rotating slightly, rattling against the plate before falling silent. There was a distinctly feminine sigh, followed a few seconds later by a thick splattering noise on the opposite side, with a second splatter coming a few seconds after that. The same feminine voice let out an annoyed growl, and once again the area fell silent.

A translucent green goo began to flow underneath the door, forming a shallow pool on the other side. In the center of the pool a thick pillar began to rise up, slowly gaining definition as it grew: Fair, feminine features on an oval face, with emerald hair moulded into a thick braid that trailed down her back. Long, delicate arms stretched up before spreading to the sides, thin fingers flexing and testing their mobility. A thin frame with well-sized breasts, slender hips and legs that ended at mid-thigh, merging with the pool.

Turning to the door the slime woman flicked the latch open, turned the knob and pulled it open to reveal an oil bag sitting on the other side. "I keep forgetting I can do that," Shayla said.

Grabbing the bag she dragged it along as she glided towards the nearest chest, her legs moving back and forth beneath her as a memory of normal movement. She made a gesture with her free hand and the chest flipped open with a creak, and she pulled the bag up beside it before beginning to sift through the contents.

"Okay, what do we have here...?" She pulled out a small tin of food. "Rations, that we can't eat." Putting it back in, she removed a flask of sky blue fluid and held it up to the light, turning it between her fingers as she inspected it. After a few seconds she shrugged and threw it against the wall, breaking it open and splashing its contents across the bricks, where it sizzled and smoked. "Light blue is acid. I should remember that."

Resuming her rummaging, she removed two dull metal bracers. Setting one down, she clipped the other around her forearm and held it up to see how it fit. The weight of it immediately caused her arm to sag to the ground, and she stared at it in quiet annoyance before oozing her limb free. "Armor that I can't wear." She returned her attention to the chest. "Not that I need- hell-o, what's this?"

Shayla plucked out a large, brilliantly clear gem, holding it up to the light. "Diamond?" The pool flowed to one side and she scratched the gem on bare stone, leaving behind a white trail. Frowning, she casually tossed it away. "Glass. Again."

She looked over her shoulder at the second chest in the room as she took up her bag again. It held a bit more promise, not merely because it was larger and statistically it couldn't be much worse than the one she just opened, but because of what it was made of: While every other one she had seen thus far had been built of aged wood and rusty iron, the one she set her sights on was made of dark mahogany and brass. It was entirely too new and valuable-looking, Shayla thought, which lead her to conclude that there was something equally valuable inside.

Gliding towards the chest she fished a set of lockpicks out of her bag. Sinking down to her hips in the pool for a better view she took one in each hand, fumbling with them for a bit to ensure that they were between her fingers and not in them. Her hands hovered near the lock as she steadied her nerves. Then, after a moment of hesitation, she slowly slid them in.

The lid hitched upward at her touch as she eased one pick inside, pressing gently on it. With the other she softly worked the pins, brushing in a steady rhythm. The lock trembled with each movement, a steady tapping that coaxed a quiet "click" from the mechanisms inside.

Licking her lips, Shayla slid it deeper in. "That's it," she breathed. "Just relax."

Her deft hands continued to work the lock. With gentle motions she raised the pins, one by one. With every press, with every stroke, she moved it closer to its release. The final pin twitched as the pick brushed across it, and with a gentle press, it came open.

The chest let out a loud, satisfied moan as it shook and the lid flew open. It flowed and shifted forms, becoming the upper half a short-haired young woman with mahogany skin and brass eyes. It leaned forward over the box of its - her - lower body, wrapping her arms around a stunned Shayla and pulling her in, parting her lips with her tongue as she kissed her deeply.

The mimic pulled away and smiled. "That felt really good."

A blush spread across Shayla's cheeks. "Thank you?"

Her smile faded as she tilted her head to the side, staring at her intently. "You're really pretty."

The green of Shayla's cheeks turned a few shades deeper. "Th-thank you." She blinked before shaking her head in an attempt to compose herself before rising back up to her previous height in her pool. "So since we're on good terms with each other," she said, pointing into the chest, "I suppose you won't mind if I just poke around in your box-" She cut herself short, squeezing her eyes shut before sighing. "I swear I didn't mean it like that."

If the mimic understood she made no show of it as she covered her lower half with her arms. "You can't take them."

"Why not?"

"Because he said so."

"Who said what, now?"

"He said that..." She furrowed her brow as she stared off into space, her tongue peeking out between her lips. Somehow Shayla got the impression that the mimic was only intelligent in the loosest sense of the word. "He said that I was to make sure," she stated, very slowly and deliberately, "that nobody ever took these books out of you." She paused briefly. "I mean me."

"Really? Who is 'he?'"

"Ixion the Scourge, the greatest neck... necker..."

"...necromancer?"

"Yeah, that! The greatest neck-row-man-sir ever to live. He said that I was to make sure that nobody ever took these books out of me and that I was never to leave his sight." She pouted. "But then I fell down a hole and got lost, so I'm trying to think about what to do."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," she said, pulling her arms away. "I'm still thinking about it."

Despite what she thought, Shayla wasn't quite the intellectual juggernaut she believed herself to be; this was mostly due to a condition usually referred to as "being young." She was still remarkably sharp, however, and occasionally had her moments of cunning. "Did he say anything about reading the books while they were still in the chest?"

The mimic pondered this for a while. "No."

"Did he say you had to stay here?"

"Nnnnnno."

"So you could come with me and I could read the books without taking them out of you."

"I guess so."

She leaned in, hands hovering over the mimic's lower half. "So now that we've established that, you have no problems with me looking in here and reading them now."

"Nope."

Shayla smiled before reaching in to investigate. There were more than she thought there would be, ranging from beginner cantrips and divination spells - replacements for the ones she had lost when she transformed, she thought - to more powerful offensive spells she had only heard about in class. Rather predictably, there was nothing even remotely related to polymorphing. Towards the bottom of the stack was one bound in strange leather she couldn't identify; her imagination immediately ran amok and she pushed it aside, thoroughly unsettled.

"Well," she said, straightening up, "I should probably take a closer look at these when we're somewhere safer." Grabbing her bag, she turned and gestured for the mimic to follow. "Come on." As Shayla glided away the mimic fell into step (such as it was) beside her, sliding effortlessly and soundlessly across the floor. "By the way, my name's Shayla DuLac. What's yours?"

"I don't know. Ixion the Scourge never gave me one."

"Oh."

"Shayla?"

"Yes?"

"Do you want to be inside me?"

Shayla would have nearly stumbled had she still had legs; as it stood, she did a pretty good approximation of it regardless. "Excuse me?!" she sputtered.

She pointed. "In here. You're really slow, but I could carry you if you want."

"No, I'm, I'm fine."

"Okay."

They resumed their gliding. Several seconds passed.

"Do you want me to grab your junk?"

Shayla stopped dead in her tracks. "What?!"

"Your bag full of junk," the mimic clarified, pointing to the oil bag. "So you don't have to drag it all the time."

"Oh. Right. Of course." Shayla held it out to the mimic, who easily picked it up with one hand and placed it inside of her. "Are you doing that on purpose?"

"Doing what on purpose?"

"Never mind."


	3. Chapter 3

The ettin trudged through the dungeon, torchlight flickering on its filthy, distorted features. It roughly shoved the door open, stooping beneath the header as it entered the room, twin heads turning left and right as it dragged a knotted wooden club behind it. Its eyes fell on a chest in the far corner, and it stared at it for a moment before lumbering towards the far door.

Suddenly the chest snapped open, revealing the top half of a fair-featured woman with a single thick braid trailing down her back, her body formed entirely of translucent green goo. With a gesture, a flicker of fire formed at the end of her fingertips. Casting one hand forward, it shot towards the ettin, growing in size before slamming into its back and exploding in a burst of flame. The ettin staggered and roared in pain, turning in time for a second fireball to impact it head-on. It let out a death rattle as it pitched backwards and fell to the stone floor, embers flickering before fading away.

The lid of the chest shifted and flowed into the top half of a mahogany-skinned, short-haired, petit young woman. "Wow."

The former human wizard of Thoth, Shayla DuLac, nodded. "They go down quickly when you catch them off guard." She turned and gave her a pat on the head. The mimic beamed. "Good job."

As the mimic glided across the room, Shayla reached out and pulled a small pouch off the ettin's charred rope belt. With her other hand she reached down, producing a small flask from the interior of the chest. Removing the cork with her thumb and forefinger, she raised it to her lips and began drinking, but halfway through she lowered it again, looking at it oddly. "That's strange. This potion turned to water."

"Do they go bad?" the mimic asked.

"No, they last basically forever. The only way that could have happened is if something cancelled or absorbed it." She looked down at the loose bottles half-sunk into her lower body, and a thought occurred to her. "Oh, I think I understand now. Fluidic magical energy is osmotic; it travels from high concentrations to low. I must have been sufficiently tapped earlier that I absorbed it through the bottle. No wonder I haven't felt it until now." Noting the mimic's blank stare, Shayla waved one hand dismissively. "Don't worry, it's all perfectly logical."

"Okay. Did that monster have anything neat?"

"Well..." Shayla opened the bag and felt around inside of it. "There's a few gemstones in here..." She produced a grimy ring, holding it up for a better view in the dim torchlight. "...and this. It feels faintly magical, so that's a good sign."

As they neared a door the mimic pushed it open, and they entered a moderately-sized room that was uncommonly well-furnished for the dungeon. Along the right wall was a sink, and beside that a desk and a shelf stocked with books and canned food - it would have normally been a boon, but Shayla couldn't remember being hungry since her... transformation - and against the opposite wall was a rather opulent bed with silk sheets.

Shayla pointed to the sink and the mimic came to a halt beside it. Leaning on the edge of the mimic's base she she swung one leg over, then the other, the limbs reforming as she raised them before re-pooling as they touched the floor, leaving her standing in a pool of green gel that stopped just above her knees. She turned the handle on the faucet, and the pipes rattled before a stream of water issued forth. Holding the ring in the stream, she turned it between her fingers, wiping the dirt and grime off its surface. Suddenly it slipped from her grasp, and she fumbled for it just as it disappeared down the drain.

Shock quickly gave way to anger, and she fumed at the sink, going to move one leg before looking down at the pool of her. Gliding back a step, she pointed to the mimic before gesturing to the sink. "Kick that for me."

The mimic looked at her, then at the pipes, then gave a slight shrug before ramming into them with a clang. The noise faded, then rose again, echoing through the walls and into the distance. There was the faint scent of sulphur and brimstone and the shuffling of a shoe upon stone, and Shayla and the mimic turned to see... him.

It was a man, young yet mature, and so strikingly handsome that he could not have been born, but rather sculpted, his pointed ears and orange-on-black eyes belying his demonic origins. He wore only pants and a shirt of the finest cloth, the latter left unbuttoned, leaving his chest exposed. As Shayla's eyes met his he smiled and said, in a smooth voice, "you called for me?"

They stared at him, and there was a long silence before the mimic finally spoke up. "Wow. He's -really- pretty." She looked over at Shayla, then reached out and gently pushed up on her chin, closing her mouth.

"Thank you. Is your friend going to be alright?"

"...what?" Shayla blinked before snapping to attention. "Yes! Yes, hi! I'm Shayla."

"How do you do, Shayla. It's a beautiful name."

Her cheeks darkened. "Th-thank you."

"You must be a very talented individual to make it this deep into the dungeon."

She let out a light, coy laugh. "Well, I won't say 'no', but..."

"Don't be so modest. You're the first human that I've seen come this far."

"How did you know I was human?"

"You may look different, but certain aspects are... immutable. But surely," he said, cupping his chin and giving her a knowing smile, "you didn't summon me to talk."

Shayla wasn't aware that she deliberately summoned him at all, but she wasn't about to say that. "Well, no. I came down here knowing it might be a one-way trip, and I thought my business back home was finished, but there's always something you remember you should have done. Something that makes you wonder that if things were different - if you knew then what you know now - then maybe-"

"You don't want to die a virgin."

She fidgeted, pressing her index fingers together. "...basically."

The incubus chuckled before extending his hand, taking Shayla's in his own and gently easing her up to her full height, everything below her hips a smooth emerald pillar. She slid along the ground, following him to the bedside. "Far be it from me to leave you unfulfilled." His pants turned to strips of shadows before peeling away and disappearing, and he looked over the bed before turning back to her. "I feel you should be on top. Can you manage?"

"I think so." She pressed her "legs" against the side of the bed, her body pooling on the satin sheets where they made contact, before shifting her weight until she felt herself standing atop it. Pulling the rest of herself up, she spread across the surface and moved to the foot of the bed. The incubus laid down and, smiling, gestured for her to move forward.

Nervously she rose up, her legs ending just below the knees as she spread them, gliding forward until she was positioned directly over the incubus' length. Shayla held her hands down and to the sides, lightly clenching and unclenching her fingers as she stared wide-eyed, glistening green droplets dripping down onto him from between her legs.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he said.

"I want to!" A bit less eagerly, she continued. "I mean, I'd like to, but, I mean, I don't know how this works, I mean, I do, I've fantasized about it and that's perfectly normal, but not like this, I mean look at me I don't even have a vagina anymore, it's all just-"

Resting his hands on her hips, the incubus gently but firmly pulled her down onto him. Shayla shuddered and let out a whimper as her insides parted and he sank into her. Breathing heavily, she looked down at herself, and at the silhouette of the incubus inside of her. "Oh. Oh wow."

"I'm going to start moving," he said quietly.

Shayla nodded, and inhaled sharply as he slid into her the rest of the way. She rose up as he drew out, quickly coming back down onto him, then lifting herself up before lowering herself back down again, bouncing against him a few times in her eagerness.

The incubus gave her hips a gentle squeeze, slowing her to a stop, and she blinked in confusion. Giving her a soft smile he moved her lower body, guiding her movement until she caught on and the two fell into a slow, steady rhythm.

"Okay," she breathed, rising and falling in time with his thrusts. "Okay. This is better. I- wow. This is a lot- this is really good."

The incubus' hands trailed up Shayla's sides before cupping her full breasts, caressing them softly. Shayla placed her hands over his own, holding them before knitting their fingers together and leaning forward, supporting herself. Her body shook and jiggled, and emerald beads began to roll down her forehead, dripping off her nose.

It was entirely unlike anything she had experienced. She pleasured herself before, both as a human and as she was now, but this was on a different level. He was -solid-, firm and dense, moving easily through her gelatinous form, parting her body with his thrusts. There was a warmth to him - in a sensual way, yes, but also a physical one; his body had heat that she never noticed she lacked in her new form until now. Where they made contact it spread to her, and when he pushed into Shayla, her insides shifted, spreading that warmth throughout her body.

Shayla panted as they moved as one, slime trickling down her body and dripping off of her. Her form was becoming less rigid and defined: Her slender fingers had merged into mitt-like hands, wrapped around the incubus' own. Her braid, once neat, had become a smooth cord slowly sliding down her back. A lock of hair framing her face slipped free, stretching out before falling onto the incubus and melting into a puddle. It took a concerted effort to stay even partially rigid, to keep the incubus in her, but as she approached her peak she knew that wouldn't last. "I..." she squeaked between breaths. "I-!"

Shayla tensed up, going solid one last time and letting out a loud, sharp cry as both she and the incubus reached their climax together. Her body trembled, then all at once she relaxed, going limp as she slumped forward onto the incubus' chest, hitting him with a wet splatter before melting into a green pool that covered and surrounded him. Bemused, the incubus lay there for a moment before tracing a small circle in the slime on his chest and rubbing it between his fingers. Almost in response, he felt the slime covering his body squeeze in the approximation of a hug.

The pool flowed towards him, scaling his sides as a mound rose from his chest, the top fading to a darker green. As it gained size it gained further definition, two eyes and a nose forming, and below them, a content smile. Two thick tendrils snaked out and reached behind the incubus' head, the ends separating into digits, and they pulled him closer as Shayla's head moved in, kissing him deeply.

When they finally separated Shayla said, "that was amazing." A second later she added, "you were amazing."

"Thank you. We appear to have put on quite the show for your friend."

"What?" The incubus nodded at something over Shayla's shoulder, and she turned to find the mimic staring at them in rapt attention, one finger slowly circling her keyhole. "Oh." Turning back, she asked, "do you think you could... you know..."

"For you? Of course."

 

*****

 

As Shayla reviewed one of her spellbooks she noted that it was awfully quiet inside. Not that she was making any sort of effort to listen at the door, of course; she merely happened to be standing next to it, and any sound that might have been made inside had a chance of being heard through the door. So no, she wasn't trying to listen in on them, but if she heard anything, well, things just happen, right?

As she most definitely did not listen at the door she heard the lock click and, looking down, saw the mimic glumly slide out with a downtrodden expression. "Did everything go okay?"

The mimic shook her head. "It didn't fit."

"What do you mean, 'it didn't-' ...oh. Oh."

Closing her spellbook Shayla leaned in, opening one of the bags in the mimic's lower half. "Well, I might have something... here we are." She produced a skeleton key, handing it to her. "I think this will work."

Her eyes lit up as they fell on it, and she bit her lip eagerly as she took it in her hands. "Is this really okay?!"

"Sure, just... be careful with it and don't lose it. My lock picks are in you, so."


	4. Chapter 4

The halls and antechambers of Gehennom were ancient, even compared to the Dungeons of Doom above. Marble tiles lined the floor, dusted with ash, and sulfurous torches illuminated the basalt brick walls with an eerie glow. In the distance was chanting, barely audible, in some blasphemous tongue.

The human wizard-turned-humanoid green slime wizard, Shayla DuLac, slid along in an emerald pool at knee height, running one hand along the ground. Some green beads ran down her forehead, and she wiped them away with her other hand; the ring she slipped onto her finger earlier (which almost immediately slipped -into- her hand and down her arm, and was currently floating around her midsection) was ample protection from flame, but unfortunately for her it did not protect her from heat.

Behind her trailed a mimic, the upper half a short-haired girl with mahogany skin and brass eyes and the lower half the box of a chest, watching her curiously. "What are you looking for?"

"The temple of the high priest of Moloch is somewhere beneath us," Shayla replied, "but the stone is warded so we can't dig through." She turned to the right, gliding along parallel to the wall. "Supposedly there's an entrance in the floor, and you can find it because the panel is humming or vibrating. We can open it with that bell, candelabra, and book we found, but we just need to find it first."

"Oh." She thought for a second. "Can I help?"

Shayla pointed to the other side of the room with her free hand. "Sure, start over there."

As the mimic departed, Shayla continued her search. A few minutes later, after who knows how many floor tiles, she heard the faint clanking of glass bottles another room over. Intrigued, she headed over and peeked in to find the mimic vibrating in place, panting as she stared off into space and gripped the sides of her lower half.

"Oh," she mumbled. "Well that would've come in handy a while ago."

 

*****

 

The wall exploded in a shower of stone, bludgeoning several nearby cultists. From his position beside a blood-stained altar a figure in ornate black and red robes whirled to face the intruders, anger burning in his eyes as the remaining cultists raised their weapons. "Infidels!" he screamed. "You have entered Moloch's sanctum! Begone!"

Shayla emerged from the hole in the wall, the mimic behind her. She gestured and pointed to the high priest, and a beam of black light lanced from her finger. The beam struck him square in the chest, and he fell backwards, dead. Undeterred, the cultists hurled spells at her; the pendant floating inside her glowed and they bounced away, a pale blue-white dome flickering into existence as the bolts and beams struck it.

Moving out from behind came the mimic, flicking a wand and bombarding the area with balls of flame. "Pew pew! Pew pew!" Distracted by Shayla, the cultists were clustered and unprepared for the assault. They tried to scatter, but between the mimic's assault and Shayla's they were quickly cut down, leaving the two as the only survivors in a shrine littered with dropped weapons and burnt corpses.

Shayla nodded. "That went rather well, I'd say. But you don't need to go 'pew pew' to use the wand. You can just point and evoke it."

The mimic gave her a curious look. "You don't...?"

The pendant slid out of Shayla's midsection and into her hands, and she placed it back in the mimic's chest. Entering the heart of the temple, she flowed around the bodies and up the shallow steps to the altar and, rising up, picked up an ornate, gem-studded mithril amulet that seemed to glow with an inner light. "The Amulet of Yendor," she said quietly, turning it over in her hands. "It had to have been real, but..." She turned back to the mimic, holding the Amulet up for her to see. "I found it!"

"Congratulations!" A beat. "It's important, right?"

"Considering my god sent me down here to get it from Moloch..." She slid it into her midsection, and recoiled as she felt it thrum with magical energy. Shaking it off, she continued. "Now all we need to do is climb all the way out of here, travel to the Astral Plane and deliver it in person."

Suddenly the body of the high priest tipped back up onto his feet. "Infidels! Return the amulet!"

Shayla pointed, firing another dark beam and striking him dead again. "I really hope he doesn't do that often."

 

*****

 

"So if Vlad's tower is that way, then this way must be-"

"Infidels! Return the amulet!"

"No."

 

*****

 

"Isn't there a black market around here?" the mimic asked.

Shayla blinked. "-Is- there a black market in here?"

"Infidels! Return the amulet!"

"Oh, for the love of Thoth."

 

*****

 

"Infidels! Return the-"

"GO AWAY." Shayla pointed to the portal. "Forget him, go! GO!"

 

*****

 

The energies swirled and parted, and the two fell with a thump and a splat, respectively. Shayla took a second to pull herself together, literally, as she found herself in a vast system of caves lit by large, glowing crystals. Before them was a stack of stones towering over them, roughly in the shape of a human, and before she could react they moved and shifted, looming over them. As her heart sank, her mind filled with images of her being unceremoniously bludgeoned to death who knows how far from her home, the stones said, in a baritone voice, "you look like a mess. Trying to find the portal to the Plane of Water?"

Shayla opened and closed her mouth dumbly for a few seconds before finally stammering out, "y-yes, we are."

"We are?" Shayla elbowed her as casually as she could, and she straightened up. "We are, sir!"

"Alright, just head that way-" It turned, aiming a stony limb down one of the caverns. "-and stick to the left. Once you get home you can clean yourself up. You must be half earth at this point."

"Thank you. We'll, uh, we'll be going now."

They glided away in silence. Once they were some distance down the tunnel the mimic looked over her shoulder before leaning in towards Shayla and saying, in a conspiratorial whisper, "you're not really a water elemental."

"You know that, and I know that, but it doesn't, and maybe nothing else does. So as long as nobody catches on we should be fine until we reach the Astral Plane."

 

*****

 

Two vaguely humanoid vortices of swirling air floated in an endless cloudy void, watching as a mimic with a humanoid slime inside hovered past, the former inspecting the ring on her hand.

The slime pointed in her direction of travel. "Plane of Water."

 

*****

 

An anthropomorphic pyre of flame looked on as a mimic full of bubbling green slime slid past. A vaguely hand and arm-shaped tentacle snaked out and, with some difficulty, waved in their general direction of travel.

 

*****

 

The mimic emerged from the portal, landing on an unusually flat, dense, and opaque island of water in an endless sea. Shayla oozed over the rim of the mimic's lower half, pooling and spreading across the ground in front of her as she tried to cool off and regain enough energy to reform.

Traveling through the Plane of Fire was the single worst experience of her life, in either form. It wasn't physically painful, which was a small mercy, and as near as she could tell none of her constituent water was gone, possibly as a side effect of her body being attuned to the arcane, but there were still many other ways for it to be incredibly unpleasant.

The heat was intense, stifling and dry, the sort of heat that could only exist in places beyond human realms. It sapped her strength, leaving her unable to keep even the most basic of humanoid shapes, but worse than that it made everything -bubble-, not even giving her the option of lying still as her insides rolled about. The net effect was feeling utterly exhausted against her will but with her body twitching and moving uncontrollably, the twitching giving her the absolute worst case of -full-body- nausea she ever had, without having the potential benefit of throwing up to try and alleviate it.

This plane, on the other hand...

The dimension was pleasantly cool, quite possibly the perfect temperature. She felt motion below the surface and in the distance, but it was harmonious, moving in time with her rather than against her will. Her vision was unfocused as a pool, but she didn't need to see to understand, almost innately, that there was something pure here.

Shayla spotted movement in the distance and she rose up out of the pool, forming first as a pillar of goo then quickly gaining definition from her hips up, two tendrils reaching out before forming into arms and hands and the top turning a darker hue of green as her braid extended down from the back of her head. As it neared, she could see that it was a feminine figure sculpted from flowing water. No wonder the earth elemental mistook her for one of them, she thought. She was curiously short, however, only coming up to her shoulders.

"You're not from here," the elemental said. It was a bit more accusatory than Shayla would have liked.

"No, we're not, but we don't mean any harm. We're on our way out just as soon as we find the portal to the Astral Plane." She craned her neck and turned, scanning the horizon, before spotting a glowing light in the distance reflecting off the surface of the water. "See, it's right over there," she said, turning back. "We'll just-" Shayla froze, looking the elemental over. "...did you just get shorter?"

"No," she replied. "You're getting taller."

"That's absurd." Shayla looked over at the mimic and was about to ask her just how absurd it was when she noticed that she, too, was looking shorter, and that her line of vision was slowly yet steadily creeping up. "Oh. Oh no."

"Is this that os..." The mimic thought for a second. "...os-mall-tic flew-it-tic magic you talked about?"

The elemental gave her a questioning look. "Osmotic what?"

"If magic is a liquid, then it goes from high magic areas to low magic areas."

"But this entire plane is magical."

"Yup!" She pointed to a horrified Shayla. "So it's going into her."

Shayla broke for the portal, the elemental and mimic following behind a second later. Now that it was brought to her attention she could feel herself gaining mass, a constant creeping into the material of the plane, devouring it against her will. She was too large to fit in the mimic by now; her only hope was reaching the portal.

She sped along the ground, her pool trailing behind her. The portal grew closer, but at the same time smaller as she grew larger, and as she moved she sank her body down in the hopes of dashing through it. First her knees, then her thighs, then her hips. By the time she neared the portal the only human parts of her above the ever-widening pond of her lower half were her upper body above her waist. She ducked her head, expecting to just make it through, only to splatter against an unseen wall of force.

As she stumbled back the elemental and mimic arrived. Shayla parted the slime along the elemental's path; she didn't know what would happen to her if they touched but she didn't want to find out. "What happened?" the mimic asked.

"It won't let me through." Shayla thought for a second. "The portals must be attuned to the planes, to keep the planes themselves from leaking out. I must have absorbed enough of the Plane of Water to make it think -I'm- part of it."

"How does that make sense?" the elemental asked.

"-I- DON'T KNOW!!" Even up to her waist in herself, Shayla found herself having to look down to meet the elemental's eyes, and the difference between them was growing faster. The Amulet of Yendor slid out from just beneath her breasts into her hand, and she held it up by the chain between finger and thumb. "Look, I don't know when this is going to stop. You can either help save the universe or stay here with me."

"You're not giving me much of a choice."

"Thanks for volunteering." She dropped the amulet into her hands. "Now after you go through this portal you're going to need to find the altar to Thoth - Dee-jay-ee-aych-you-tee-aye - it's going to have a baboon on it-"

"A baboon?"

"A monkey. Just hide in her-" She pointed to the mimic. "-sneak up, slap it down on the altar and you're done."

The elemental glanced down at the amulet, then at the mimic before giving Shayla a questioning look.

"You'll be fine, there's godhood in it for you." Shayla gestured with a hand the size of the elemental, shooing them both into the portal. "Just go! Go!"

After they passed through the gate spun in on itself, collapsing into a point of light before winking out of existence. Shayla slumped, legs rising out of the slime as her body approximated a sitting position. Resting her elbows on her knees, she folded her arms and lowered her head, laughing humorlessly. "Great. That's taken care of. Now what am I going to do...?"

 

*****

 

The fabric of space rippled and spun, and out of a glowing portal stepped an armed and armored man. He surveyed the area around him, finding himself atop a wide emerald plateau in an endless sea of deep green. To his north the plateau was split by a valley and sloped up into two high, long hills, and to his south it rose into two round hills hundreds of feet high. He shifted his weight onto one foot; the ground was firm, but at the same time had more give and spring to it than simple earth. The word "gelatinous" came to mind most readily.

Suddenly there was a moan, soft yet loud, and the ground tilted up from the south, the round hills shifting. In the distance a head rose up, unmistakably a woman's yet massive, dwarfing even the highest castle towers that he had seen. She squinted as she focused on him. "Are you normally that small?"

The man was taken aback, struck motionless by the revelation that he was standing on a mountain of a woman, or at least something that resembled one. He had been in grand cathedrals, opulent throne rooms, and faced down armies, but until now, finding himself a speck on her abdomen, he hadn't known what it meant to feel insignificant.

"Well?"

He composed himself, clearing his throat. "I am Sir Albrecht of-"

"You're going to have to speak up," she said. "You're a little quiet."

"I AM SIR ALBRECHT OF GALQUIRE," he boomed. "SON OF SIR GALFREY, EARL OF GALQUIRE, WHO SLEW THE-"

She raised a hand large enough to scoop up a lake, gesturing for him to hurry up.

"Yes, of course," he muttered. "THE COUNCIL OF MAGES IN GALQUIRE HAVE NOTICED A DISTURBANCE IN THE FUNDAMENTAL FORCES OF MAGIC RELATING TO THE PLANE OF WATER, AND HAVE SENT ME TO INVESTIGATE."

"Oh! Oh." She laughed nervously. "Well, there's a -really- funny story behind that..."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the following chapters were originally posted under the title "YASD."

It was not a short trip, nor a safe one. The object in his possession was the result of a search reaching from places forgotten to those that wished to be forgotten. It brought him before men and women of power, both of this world and beyond it, was bought with the Duke's fortune, and its authenticity verified by means of his lord's mages.

Quite a lot of work for a flask.

It certainly wasn't -any- flask, of course. It was magical, that much he knew, and there was something inside of it sloshing around, though he had strict orders not to open it. Supposedly it was one of the few remaining artifacts of an earlier time, back when magic was cruder and simpler, using brute force to accomplish what was done nowadays via more efficient means. Which is not to say that there were few remaining artifacts of an earlier time -in general- - definitely not, they were all over the place. It was just that no one bothered to use them because they were inefficient and clunky. After all, why create an entire horse out of stone and animate it to pull a cart when you can simply propel the cart itself?

The flask was different. It retained its value not merely because of what it did - whatever it did - but because it was one of the few remaining objects of its kind. Supposedly a clerical order dedicated to the god Istishia ordered them to be tracked down and destroyed, and they very nearly succeeded. But not completely, luckily.

The man slowed his horse to a stop atop the hill, looking out across the fields and cobblestone-paved roads that lead to his home, York's Pass, and beyond that, his destination: Rochgrisse Castle.

To say that the fortress was made from stone would be a half-truth; it -was- stone, a single piece of solid gray earth so sheer no man could climb it and so high it cast a shadow that bathed miles of land in darkness at sunset. At the far end, some distance away, stood a square monolith, a sheer mountain by any description, higher and wider than any man-made tower, with pinpoints of light shimmering in distant windows.

York's Pass, on the other hand, was far more welcoming. It was an idyllic farming town, with brick buildings on the outskirts giving way to older wood and stone as he headed through the center of the village to the gate. Life wasn't exciting, but considering the state of world, that wasn't always a bad thing. Being in such close proximity to Rochgrisse kept most troublemakers away, at any rate.

Leaving the town he headed for the castle, approaching the massive stone doors. As he neared the guards he raised one hand. "Hail! It's Belmond! I return on the Duke's orders with the artifact!"

One of the guards turned and began speaking to a mirror set into the wall. After a few moments he glanced over at Belmond, nodding before placing his hand on a metal panel beside the mirror. Immediately a lattice of angular, pale blue lines began to glow across the surface of the doors before dimming, and they slowly slid apart as the guard gestured for him to enter.

As Belmond passed by the guards one said, "Welcome back, sir. Duke Lecarde wishes for you to meet him by the well with the artifact."

Belmond nodded, his horse slowed to a trot, taking a full minute to pass through the tunnel in the wall. In stark contrast to the verdant fields of the exterior, the interior of Rochgrisse Castle was flat and empty, a vast, barren stretch of stone and soil without even the smallest blade of grass. In the distance he could see a figure on a horse he could only assume was Duke Lecard, and he spurred his own horse on to greet him.

The two united near wide stone well in the center of the field, and Belmond dismounted, removing an old flask from his saddlebag. He approached the figure as he dismounted, a dusty blond a few years younger than him, and offered him it. "Here you are. It certainly took long enough to find."

The young man took it from him, holding it almost reverently as he turned it over in his hands, taking it in with bright green eyes. "A decanter of endless water. The natural reservoir may have dried up, but magic finds a way." He smiled at him, pulling the stopper free before approaching the well. "You've done good work, my friend. Let's not waste time putting this to work." Holding the flask over it he said, in a commanding voice, "stream."

Nothing.

"Water."

Still nothing.

"Pour? River? Flood?" He looked over at Belmond. "Were there instructions?"

"It..." Belmond shrugged helplessly. "There weren't any papers or the sort with it. Perhaps on the flask?"

He tipped it up, looking at the bottom. "Ah, here we are. Torrent!"

The flask shuddered before a massive stream surged from the open mouth, not of water, but of translucent green goo. The force wrenched it from the blond's hands, sending it spinning in the air before plummeting down the well out of view.

The two leaned over the well, staring down into the darkness. "That wasn't water," Belmond said, "was it?"

"No. It wasn't."

"You didn't happen to see the word that turned it off, did you?"

"No. I didn't."

Belmond nodded. "We're in a fix, aren't we, Sir?"

Simon Lecarde, Duke of Rochgrisse Castle, nodded. "Very much so."

 

*****

 

"Cheer up, Sir," one of Simon's aides said, "it's not that bad."

"'Not that bad,' you say." Simon stood, approaching the wide open window before turning and gesturing to the viscous green sea that was formerly the courtyard of the castle, the thick fluid mere feet from the lip of the walls. "-That- looks like something that's 'not that bad' to you."

The older man paused, gesticulating as he searched for the right words. "It could have been poisonous. The castle's gates could have been left open."

"That doesn't make it sound 'not that bad,'" he replied. "That makes it sound less bad, which is not to say that it is -not bad-." Simon sighed, raising his glass to his mouth. "All of this because I wanted to put this fallow stretch of land to use."

"Your heart was in the right place, milord."

He drained his drink, gesturing widely. "Yes, I have enough good intentions to pave a road." Without much thought he pitched the glass over the railing, sending it tumbling to the sea below. "Bards will sing of the day Simon Lecarde tried to grow a garden and accidentally flooded the entire country with sludge in the process." He leaned on the railing, morosely looking down into the keep and hoping that if he stared long enough the problem might solve itself.

To his consternation the opposite seemed to happen, as a round patch - a very large, round patch - began to rise up and darken to a deep emerald, as if a bubble was forming. The bubble's surface took on an odd texture, with thick strands extending out and down. Dismay turned to shock and confusion as it rose higher and the part nearest him trailed down into a circular cord, which flattened and resolved into a braid thicker than even the largest tower, now rendering it unmistakably a person's head.

Simon stood there mute and awestruck, as a figure - an impossibly massive figure - formed and rose out. Bare shoulders, extending down into slim arms and slender hands which rested on either side of the keep, spanning the walls as the figure continued rising hundreds upon hundreds of feet, moving as casually as person exiting a bathtub. A back upon which the braid lay, straight and tall, leading down to the sea below as its - her - body stopped just above the hips.

Her head moved to and fro for a few seconds before she turned towards the main structure Simon was in. As her eyes flitted across the surface of the castle he had a good look at her from the front: She had a fair-featured oval face, and was quite endowed, but not excessively so. Of course, considering that she was on a scale that was positively geographic, any such endowment would likely be considered excessive.

Despite her sudden appearance, she didn't seem hostile. On the contrary, her movements were quite controlled, as if she were aware of the destruction she could potentially cause, and she looked curious above all else. Willing to take a chance, Simon waved his hands over him and let out a shout in the hopes of attracting her attention.

After a few seconds of waving and shouting her eyes focused on him, and she leaned in for a closer look. "Oh," she said quietly. "Hello."

"Yes, hello!" he shouted. He hesitated for a moment; now that he had her attention, and she was receptive, he didn't really know what to say to a towering human-shaped mass of green goo so large that it could eat him or crush him without even realizing it. Still, a question came to mind. "What are you, exactly?"

She looked taken aback, and perhaps a bit apologetic. "That's... a really good question..."


	6. Chapter 6

Simon Lecarde, Duke of Rochgrisse Castle, hesitated for a moment; now that he had her attention, and she was receptive, he didn't really know what to say to a towering human-shaped mass of green goo so large that it could eat him or crush him without even realizing it. Still, a question came to mind. "What are you, exactly?"

The titaness looked taken aback, and perhaps a bit apologetic. "That's... a really good question..." She peered at him curiously. "Are you... human, if you don't mind me asking? Is this the Prime Material?"

"I am, and it is."

"So you're probably six feet tall."

"Thereabouts, yes."

She nodded slowly and uneasily. "Can we talk?" she asked, pointing down. "Down there?"

"I'm not in any position to make demands of you, considering."

"Great, thanks." As soon as the words left her lips she quickly began descending back into the sea below.

Simon turned and strode across the room, his aide falling into line beside him. "Sir, is this wise?"

"Elaborate."

The aide opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, gesturing behind them towards the window. "Sir, Rochgrisse is currently filled with a giant slime creature of unknown origin and you're going down to talk to it."

"A creature of unknown origin that's lost and confused." He stopped before a set of sliding metal doors, reaching towards a metal plate beside it and pressing an embossed "G."

"It could be a trick!"

"To what end? What could it accomplish with subterfuge that size couldn't?" The doors slid open to reveal a carpeted wooden platform in a long vertical shaft, and Simon stepped in and turned around. "It's here because of me," he said as the doors closed. "The least I can do is hear it out."

 

*****

 

Simon exited the citadel onto the wall, approaching the sea of slime. A small version of it - her, rather; it was rude to keep calling her an "it" - formed and rose up to just under five and a half feet in height, everything from the thighs down tapering into a smooth jade pillar. Her body was far thinner than it was previously, giving it a striking translucency that was set off by the light of the sun. She was still fully nude, a fact which didn't seem to bother her as she gave him an awkward half-smile. "Hi. So you asked what I was. Do you want the long version or the short one?"

"Whichever is fine."

She nodded. "Okay. My name is Shayla DuLac, and I wasn't always like-" She gestured to herself, then at the contents of the castle. "-this. When I was still human, I received a message from the god Thoth to retrieve the Amulet of Yendor from the grip of the priests of Moloch and deliver it to him. The Amulet was deep underground in a series of tunnels and chambers, and as I was exploring I..." I ate something I probably shouldn't have, she thought. "...I was turned into this. But much smaller."

"Were you successful in your quest?"

"Very nearly. I had to get a water elemental to help for the last bit. I like to hope they succeeded."

"I see. What happened that you were unable to see it to the end? A daring stand against impossible odds? Holding some sort of portal open?"

"Oh, um." Shayla licked her lips nervously. "Well, not really, no. I, uh, accidentally..." She gestured. "You know."

"Yes? Go on, you have my interest."

"I accidentally..." She lowered her voice, looking away, shrugging, and trying her best to act casual. "...absorbed the Elemental Plane of Water."

Simon blinked. "You -accidentally- absorbed the Elemental Plane of Water."

"Kind of."

"How much of it?"

"I don't know. That's the problem." She rubbed her neck before playing with her braid nervously, the deep emerald slime stretching and sagging in her hands as she tugged at it. "My magister taught that the Elemental Planes were both representative of the elements as well as embodiments of them: Earth, fire, air, and water in the Material Plane existed because of them and vice versa. As such the Plane of Water is effectively infinite, so I must have stopped growing at some point, unless..." She trailed off.

"Unless...?"

She worriedly looked him in the eyes. "...unless I'm so accustomed to what it feels like to absorb it that I can't tell anymore."

"So you're saying that you could be infinitely huge." Simon tried to visualize for a moment what that would entail, knowing that for all he saw behind Shayla it wasn't even a fraction of a fraction, and as small as he was to her when she first saw him, so too could she be to that. It was overwhelming, to say the least.

Shayla nodded, brushing her braid back. "I haven't thought about it much, but the fact that I don't know the scales to which I've grown is... really disturbing." She let out a short laugh. "You know, when I came out here, I had forgotten how big I was supposed to be. Or small, I guess."

Simon glanced behind her. "If I may be blunt by asking a question."

"Go ahead."

"Did I accidentally cause an apocalypse scenario by causing you to spill from that flask endlessly?"

"Oh, no! Thoth, no!" She pointed down and behind her. "The well leads down to an underground lake that dried up. Once I realized what was happening I moved the bottle around down there so that the weight of all of me on top of it is keeping it from flowing out any further. I can't get back -in- it, but at least more of me won't come out. So good news, everyone is safe. Bad news..." She shrugged. "You're stuck with me until I can figure out how to extract myself from this plane. I hope you weren't using this castle for anything."

"To be frank? It's the proverbial tits on a bull."

Shayla looked at Simon oddly. "Really? How can you build something this big and not use it?"

"Do you want the long version or the short one?"


	7. Chapter 7

It may have been a side effect of spending so much time in an old, dark dungeon and so much more by herself, but Shayla was struck by the interior of Rochgrisse. The smooth gray stone floor was carved into an approximation of tiles and decorated with carpets. Tapestries and paintings hung from the walls, with the occasional metal plaque marked with locations and directional arrows to point residents in the right direction. The doors were wood, but a few were also strange thick metal shutters, and especially strange were the smaller tunnels blocked off with metal mesh, all of which had a faint breeze coming from somewhere deeper. All of this was lit, not with torches, but with glowing lights encased in glass spheres and mounted on the walls and ceiling.

Shayla made no attempt to not appear overwhelmed as she stared open-mouthed at everything, turning about to take it all in as she slid along behind Simon. "This is amazing. There's no way that anything like this could have existed back in my day."

"Rochgrisse was raised from the ground through the efforts of hundreds of mages," Simon said, "and even then, it was just stone. Making it a habitable structure took thousands of people, many of whom settled in York's Pass or other nearby villages when all was said and done." He stopped, pressing a number on a panel beside a set of metal shutters. "It was to be the first line of defense against the Gilchrist Dwarven Kritarchy, an impenetrable bastion for soldiers as well as a command center for the upcoming campaign and a camp for refugees."

"So what happened?"

"The elves," he replied, his voice thick with venom.

Shayla rolled her eyes. "Oh Thoth, say no more."

The shutters slid open, revealing a carpeted wooden platform, and Simon gestured for her to enter. "After you."

She leaned in, looking up and down cautiously. It felt faintly magical, but then again, so did many other things. Even the castle walls themselves still had some thaumaturgic residue to them. "...what is this?"

"A ropeless winch. You step on the platform and it carries you to different floors automatically. Much easier than climbing thirty flights of stairs."

"I don't think I can use this."

"It's perfectly safe."

"No, no, I mean..." She gestured to the thin carpet of slime trailing behind her, leading down the hallway and out of view. "...I literally cannot use it."

His eyes went from her, to the trail on the ground, to the ropeless winch as he thought for a few seconds. "Do you require a bucket?"

"No, I need to stay in one piece." She pointed to herself. "This is me." She then pointed from whence she came. "But so is that. I can't just split off a 'me' and walk around. That would be like you cutting off your head and throwing it out a window if you wanted to talk to-" She paused. "No, that's a terrible metaphor."

"Analogy."

"Whatever." Shayla fell silent for a moment. "Okay. All of -that- is me, but part of me looks like -this- because it's a shape I'm used to and the easiest for me to take. My whole body is like a sensory organ and I can focus more on one part or another so I'm not tasting dirt all the time. Right now I'm focusing on you through this part, and you probably think that because I have a head and a face and am communicating with you that this is the seat of my thoughts, but no; my thoughts are everywhere. As strange as this sounds 'I' am just a visually appealing tentacle."

"Don't sell yourself short."

Her cheeks turned dark green, ever so slightly. "A-anyway. If you tried to remove this part it would just..." She brought one hand down on top of the other. "Splat, until it came into contact with the rest of me again. In order to go up I'd have to take the stairs, stand outside or, I guess, flood one of the winch shafts."

"Very well." He gestured behind her before walking past. "There's a dining room on the ground floor we can visit."

"Thank you." She turned and came up beside him. "You were saying?"

"Where was I?"

"Elves."

"Ah, right. The good news was that the Gilchrist dwarves became one of our most valued trading partners. The bad news was that, due to our location far away from most other potential conflicts, Rochgrisse Castle was effectively built for naught, save perhaps as a place to stow undesired Dukes."

"When you say 'undesired Dukes,' do you mean...?"

"I mean exactly what you think I mean."

"You, um... don't get along with your family?"

"King Oswald II has five sons and three daughters, not counting myself, and not counting the two still-living sons from his previous marriage. They are all insufferable schemers, and having me be out of the way is part of the plans of at least one of them."

"You must hate them for that."

"Not at all. Being here means that I'm away from all of them. But personally..." He stopped and opened one of a set of double doors, stepping aside so Shayla could pass. "...they can all die in a fire."

By the rest of the castle's standards the dining room was modest, with sturdy wooden furniture, cupboards, and an open doorway leading to the kitchen. Judging from the few residents, castle servants, and off-duty guards that were in it, Shayla assumed it was just for general use rather than for entertaining dignitaries. As Simon entered one of the soldiers let out a call to attention, and they went to stand before he gestured for them to stand down, returning to their meals, card games, or conversations. The civilians, meanwhile, were staring at Shayla in some mixture of confusion, fear, and faint outrage.

Shayla awkwardly waved, not getting much in the way of responses. She leaned in towards Simon, whispering, "what's with them?"

"You were several hundred yards tall when many of them first saw you."

"That was an honest mistake."

"You're also occupying the castle grounds. All of it."

"That's not my fault."

"...and you're nude."

She went to respond, but stopped. Technically he wasn't wrong; even if she was only in the shape of a human, it was still a nude human. It was just that for the longest time there was no one else around who cared - or anyone at all - so eventually she stopped caring. She wasn't about to start wearing clothes again, of course, considering how utterly impractical that would be. Wracking her brain, she tried to think back to what people found objectionable about nudity before hitting upon a solution. Licking her thumb, she cupped her breasts in turn with her other hand, wiping off her nipples and leaving them smooth and featureless. "Problem solved."

Simon gave her a look.

She gestured to the rest of the room, where most of the people had gone from staring at her to trying to ignore her. "It worked, didn't it?"

He stared at her for a bit. "At any rate," he began. "Is there anything I can offer you with regards to food?"

"Not food, but if you have anything like fruit juice that would be great."

Nodding, he turned back to the rest of the room. "Excuse me, Margaret!" An older woman poked her head out from the kitchen door. "A decanter of pomegranate juice and a glass for our new guest here!"

"A guest, sir?" one of the off-duty soldiers asked. "She's a bit large and uninvited for a guest."

"If you'd like a smaller, invited one I could always have one of my siblings stop by for a visit."

The soldier fell silent for a few seconds before raising his glass to Shayla in a toast. "Welcome to Rochgrisse, ma'am."

Suddenly there was the tinny chime of a small bell, and Simon reached into his pocket. He produced a small hand mirror and, after looking into it for a few seconds, nodded and replaced it. "Miss DuLac-"

"Shayla."

"Shayla, I'm afraid I must cut our conversation short. Is there anything you're in particular need of?"

"No, but if something comes up I can just get your attention."

"As well as the attention of everyone in York's Pass." He nodded to her, backing out the door. "By your leave."

She scanned the room for an empty table and, spotting one, slid over, taking a seat near a dark-haired, fresh-faced young man about about her age - or her former age. Said young man was also one of the only people in the room not staring at her or deliberately ignoring her, being occupied by something in the kitchen. That something proved to be a someone, as a woman Shayla would charitably describe as "husky" and more truthfully as "quite fat" exited the kitchen with a bottle and a full glass, approaching her and setting them down on the table. As she left, Shayla noted that the young man was trying very hard to keep his eyes on her without making it obvious that he was doing so.

As she took a sip of her drink, Shayla couldn't help but feel that there was something in the way he looked at her, and in the way he looked to Shayla, that brought to mind something she had forgotten. A bubble of juice slid down where her throat would be, stopping in her midsection and slowly dissolving, as she thought over all the things it could be. It wasn't thirst, that much she knew. Not hunger, either, or needing to use the latrine...

She nearly slammed her glass down on the table when she remembered. Sex! That was it. No wonder it had slipped her mind; she only had it that one time, and that was... however long ago it was. It was good, though, definitely. She should have more of it.

With him.

Lacking experience in the art of seduction, she would have to improvise based on what she knew which, admittedly, wasn't much: The faintly-remembered behavior of her fellow students as well as a few licentious books (read entirely for the plot, of course). Improvising nearly got her demi-godhood, however, so she figured she was good at it.

After pausing to make sure her chest was anatomically correct again, she gave him a light wave and, once she had his attention, she smiled. "Hi there."

He blinked. "Hi. You're from that..." He gestured. "Lake out there, aren't you?"

"Basically. My name's Shayla, and you are...?"

"Corbin."

"Corbin. That's a nice name." Sheathes of slime slid up the legs of the chair, covering the seat as she turned to the side. Her body from the hips split and spread, forming slender legs and feet. "I'm not sure how long I'm going to be here, but it might be a while." Slowly lifting them up, she crossed one over the other. "So I figured I should get to know some people."

 

*****

 

She was a genius. A temptress genius.

Corbin had a room facing Rochgrisse's inner courtyard and just under the high point of her body, so getting in without anyone finding out was simply a matter of him opening a window for her to pour herself in. Keeping people out was equally simple, being a flick of the bolt and a simple gesture to keep the knob immobile just in case. He did question her covering the floor and part of his bed with a thick layer of her, but relented when she explained that it made it easier for her to have legs - and he -did- want her to have legs, though the whole extent of what he wanted was something she planned on exploring.

"So have you done this before?" Shayla asked.

"A few times," Corbin replied, unbuttoning his shirt and giving her a good view in the process. "But not with anything so..."

"Gelatinous?"

"Yes."

Oh thank Thoth, she thought. If anything goes wrong I can just let him take the lead.

He stripped off his undergarments. "Well then, shall we begin?" He went to embrace her, but she pushed him back into a seated position on the bed.

"Hold it. I need to know something first."

"Anything."

"In the dining room kitchen there was a woman." His calm, collected expression changed to that of a child who was caught with their hand in the cookie jar, and Shayla knew she had struck gold. "You couldn't keep your eyes off of her." Corbin averted his gaze, and Shayla had to fight the urge to grin as she leaned forward. "Are you interested in her?"

"...perhaps a bit," he finally said.

"Really." She took a step back. "What does she have that I don't? Maybe... thick thighs?" She placed her index fingers on them for emphasis before covertly moving more of herself from outside, across the floor and into her. They thickened, first doubling, then tripling in width, her shins flaring out over her ankles and her thighs gaining a soft plumpness so thick it pushed her legs apart. There was surprise in his eyes, but also an eagerness, which was more than enough for her to keep going.

She turned to her side, cupping her backside. "Or maybe it's a big butt." Her cheeks jiggled as they grew out, filling her hands then spilling over them, becoming rounder before beginning to sag under their own weight. Within seconds her seat was large enough to seat someone else in turn which, combined with her trunk-like thighs and now-massive hips, gave her body an exaggerated pear shape.

"Hmm. Is there anything else?" Shayla tapped her chin in mock contemplation, her face growing fuller and more pudgy. She gave Corbin a sidelong look, only to discover that while he was paying attention to her, he wasn't exactly listening to her. Reaching over, she snapped her fingers in front of his face, not making much in the way of noise but still startling him out of his reverie. "Hey, Corbin. Are you saying that this is it?"

After a second of thought he put on a casual air and said, "no. No, definitely not." Good, she thought, he's starting to get into it. "There was a bit more." He gestured. "In the front."

She put her index finger to her midsection. "Do you mean here?" Her stomach and sides bulged up and out, going from plump to fat and beyond. Thick rolls formed on her gut, her navel sunk deep into them as they hung down over her waist. Her arms, meanwhile, lost all tone and definition as they gained a gelatinous thickness, far outclassed by her legs but still heavy in their own right. Reaching down, she grabbed the rolls of her belly, giving them a shake as she turned back towards him. "Now this -has- to be it, doesn't it? She can't possibly have anything on me anymore."

"There is one thing..."

"Don't you mean 'two things?'" As if on cue, her breasts began to swell. By no means an immodest size normally, they grew into heaping handfuls, then larger, spreading down and across the top of her belly. Her nipples thickened as her mounds became full and heavy, only stopping once they reached the size of melons. Holding her arms to the sides Shayla attempted a pirouette but only managed a slow turn. "So? How does she compare now?"

"She doesn't. Not at all." He took a second to take it all in again. "You look amazing."

"Amazing" was one word Shayla would use to describe it. For starters, it was amazing that she was able to do this at all. She did assume that it was possible, but actually doing it was something else.

Another word would be "dense." She was her original height, and yet her body was so thick she was opaque. Her sides were wide enough to keep her arms from hanging straight down, and her front far enough out to rest them on. But she wasn't just thick, she was -heavy-: Her entire body was pulling down on her, her ass, belly, and breasts especially, and each motion of her arms brought with it a bit of momentum that she was unaccustomed to. She was struck by how limited her movement was and how much effort it took to move, and even taking into consideration that she was made out of slime, every step and motion caused her body to jiggle and wobble.

"I know you're not just here to look," Shayla said. She gestured. "Back up. I'm going to need a lot of room."

Corbin scooted back on the slime-coated bed, and she approached before leaning forward and resting both hands on it. The plan was to put a knee on the edge of the bed and climb up, but she only managed to bend and raise her leg partway, and the space she wanted to put it was occupied by her gut. She rocked forward and back, breasts swaying as she contemplated how to maneuver with such greatly increased size.

"Do you need help?" Corbin asked.

"A little. Could you give me a push?"

He slid off the side of the bed, circling around behind Shayla. After admiring the view for a few seconds he placed both hands on her hips. Holding her firmly, he thrust into her, and Shayla let out a yelp of surprise as her body suddenly gave way to something firm and warm.

"You said you wanted a push," he said. "So I'm giving you a -push!-"

He thrust into her again for emphasis before pistoning in and out of her, her body rocking from the force. He was not as slow or as dexterous as the succubus, but he was there, and he was eager. There was a hunger in his movements, a hunger she shared; she didn't know how badly she wanted this until now.

Shayla's body shook from every thrust. Her sides and belly rippled every time his hips collided with her ass, sending vibrations through her body that caused her entire form to shudder from the inside out. She gripped the blankets, concentrating on keeping her form as best she could. Beads of slime began to form, trailing down the rolls and folds of flab she had piled on herself, but her body held. Even she had her limits, however, as she was growing softer from within.

He continued ramming away, stirring up her warm insides, the constant rocking putting them in motion. She rolled like a wave within herself, flowing forward when he pushed in, and when he drew out she flowed back, pressing against her sex from the inside. The assault from both within and without was too much for her, and she was quickly pushed over the edge, gasping as she came, jade droplets dripping from her and falling to the floor.

Corbin's thrusting soon grew faster and harder, and he let out a grunt, gripping her sides as he came in turn. Shayla stifled a moan as he spilled into her, something warm and thick flowing deep in her insides, spreading its heat before dissipating and dissolving. As he withdrew from her she sighed, relaxing, resting her head on the bed.

Suddenly she felt two hands on her ass, followed by a firm shove. She pulled as the blankets as she tried to clamber forward, eventually succeeding in getting both knees up onto the bed. She crawled forward before pushing herself up to a kneeling position as Corbin dove onto the bed in front of her, resting his head on his hand and giving her a shit-eating grin.

"What was that?" she asked.

"You asked for a push, and I gave you one. Several, in fact."

She stared at him for several seconds, trying not to smile. "Okay, wise guy. I hope you're warmed up, because you've got more 'pushing' to do."

"I'm actually sort of tuckered out at the moment. Could you give me a few minutes?"

Shayla shuffled towards him. "I can." He rolled onto his back as she brought one leg over him. As she straddled his chest he watched her, unsure of what she was about to do. "But in the meantime..." She edged forward, hovering over his head before lowering her prodigious lower half onto his face. "...you can put that smart mouth of yours to use."


	8. Chapter 8

It was such a simple thing, but she had forgotten how much she missed the sun.

The light where Shayla was wasn't cold, it wasn't warm, it wasn't -anything-. There was just a glow that cast no shadow that came from some nebulous point above her in an empty sky. She didn't know if it was from the plane or some point beyond, and after a while she simply stopped wondering. Had she known she would have been spending the rest of her life in the bowels of the earth and another realm, she wouldn't have taken it for granted.

Shayla leaned her head back and closed her eyes, propped up by her elbows on the wall as she relaxed. She moved every so often, not there, but in the lake in Rochgrisse's keep, shifting the sun-warmed parts of her body further down into her.

"Shayla."

She turned her head to see Duke Simon Lecarde and an older, salt-and-peppered man in robes standing beside her. For some reason they were looking awfully short, only coming partway up her upper arm-

...oh, right.

Simon gestured to the man. "This is Magus Hektanmeyer. I summoned him regarding the... issue we've been having. Magus Hektanmeyer, this is Shayla DuLac, our... guest."

The Magus looked up at Shayla in vague annoyance. Either that or, she supposed, it was his natural expression. "So, this was the cause of the problem."

"Not intentionally," Shayla replied. "I was just poured into the plane."

"Not this problem. An older one, but one still relevant. Are you at all familiar with decanters of endless water?"

She thought for a second. "I've heard about them. They're not actually containers of endless water, but portals to the Elem-" She stopped as realization hit her. "...the Elemental Plane of Water." Pushing herself away from the wall, she turned towards Simon. "You used one of them, didn't you?"

"I did." There was no hesitation in his voice. "All I knew was that the priests of Istishia set out to destroy them, but not why. Who can augur the reasons of the gods?"

"No one," the Magus replied, "but one can make educated guesses. Shortly before Istishia's crusade, magic pertaining to water was disrupted. Doubtless that this-" He gestured to Shayla. "-was the cause. Seeing this, it would stand to reason that he would take steps to limit the effect the altered Plane of Water would have on the Prime Material plane. It took years before a new Plane of Water appeared, an important-"

"Wait," Shayla said, holding up a hand larger than most people. "How long has there been a new Plane of Water?" A sudden realization hit her and she shook her head, waving her hand as she felt panic well up within her. "No, no, how long has the old one been gone? When did the problems first start happening?"

He thought for a second before stating definitively, "the year of the Treaty 185."

"That's when I left home and everything happened. But it's only been a couple years, right?" Her voice was slowly becoming more urgent. "I lived out in the boondocks, so I didn't see anything like what you have now. You must have made it all recently. I mean, it- it couldn't-" Her gaze flitted between the two men. "What year is this?"

The Magus looked over at Simon, who bowed his head for a moment before looking up at Shayla and speaking. "Treaty 404."

She stared at him in disbelief, hands slowly going to her mouth. "Two hundred and nineteen years... I..." Squeezing her eyes shut, she sank into the emerald lake, the surface rippling before going still.

 

*****

 

Shayla retreated from the plane into the rest of her body. She tried to hold a human form, but whenever she did there was a constant ache in her chest; giving it up eased the pain, but there was still a gnawing at her mind. It was a longing for people and places she had nearly forgotten and a desperate desire to see them again, and frustration, but more than that, sadness that everything she cared about had simply gone on and disappeared, and she didn't even know when or how. It was foreign to her, yet all too familiar.

She knew that her journey was all but a one-way trip, yet she had held out hope that if she succeeded she would be able to see them again. But now, she didn't even have that.

And so, for the first time in untold decades, Shayla wept.

 

*****

 

It was evening by the time Shayla returned to Rochgrisse, points of light appearing in the skies above and the castle around her. A quick look around revealed that, for once, she was to scale with the rest of the structure. It was just as well; she didn't feel like being the center of attention at the moment.

She leaned against the wall, watching as the sun fell below the horizon. As it grew dark, she noticed a light moving behind her, and turned to see Simon carrying a lantern. "Welcome back."

"How did you know I was back?" she asked.

"It's a large castle, granted, but I know more of what's going on than you think." He set the lantern down and took a seat on the edge of the wall, legs hanging above the slime lake. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't know." Two jade legs emerged from the slime and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Just... worn out from crying all day."

"Three days."

"What?"

"You were gone for three days."

She lowered her head. "Losing track of a time seems to be a thing with me, now." She slowly shook her head. "I can't believe they're gone. I said goodbye to them, but you never really think that you're going to say goodbye -forever-, you know?"

Silence.

"My grandfather," Simon began, speaking slowly, as if recalling something, "the last king died when I was still young. He was a good man, a great ruler, and I remember crying at his funeral procession. My uncle was there, and he put his hand on my shoulder and told me, 'do not be sad that he is gone, be happy that he lived.' I didn't know what he meant at the time, but as I grew older I came to realize that if you miss someone, it was because they were important to you, and they left a positive impact on your life. So you should cherish the memories you have of them and be glad they were able to be a part of your life, and you theirs."

Shayla slowly raised her head and looked up at Simon, who smiled back at her. "I guess."

"You had good parents."

She looked at him oddly. "Why do you say that?"

"You left home on a mission from your god. That's the sort of selflessness and sense of duty few people have."

"Well, it was a divine mission. Those are pretty important."

"Not to mention, consider how large you are, or could become, yet you've always been polite and cordial to everyone in the castle. A lesser person would have thrown their weight around or, worse yet, claimed authority."

She shrugged. "I hate bullies. Just because you have power doesn't give you the right to push others around."

"Just so. Would you care to come in? There's still some tomato soup left."

"Okay, thanks." Her legs sank in and she approached the wall, rising up on a pillar of slime before sliding onto the top at standing height. Simon picked up the lantern and stood, and together they headed for the door of the main keep. "Simon."

"Yes?"

"You're going to make a great king some day."

"Gods willing," he replied. "Gods willing."


	9. Chapter 9

Duke Simon Lecarde ran his finger down the list of towns in the book, making notes on a piece of paper with the fountain pen in his other hand. Turning the page to check the other side, he set the pen down before closing the book, taking it in one hand and pushing his chair back from the desk. Standing, he walked over to one of the shelves in the office, replacing the book and removing another, but just as he went to return to his desk he had the feeling that he wasn't alone.

It took a while to see her, but Shayla was standing on the far side of his desk, a thin trail of slime leading off the edge. She was small enough to carry around in one hand, the rim of his mug coming up to just above her waist. Her smaller size made the transparent nature of the green goo more evident, making her look like a mobile statuette of tinted glass.

She waved. "Hi. Am I interrupting anything important?"

"Moderately so, but nothing interesting." He walked back to the desk, setting the book down before taking a seat. "That's a new look for you."

"I woke up like this, so I decided to explore a little using all the small tunnels all over the place." She was speaking loudly, but even so, her voice was quiet.

"You didn't block any of them, did you?"

"No, I figured they were important."

He nodded, saying nothing. Picking up his pen, he slowly twirled it in his fingers. "I've contacted the order of Istishia to see if they've any decanters of endless water."

Shayla looked up at him curiously as she approached. "Why do we need another decanter? No, wait, before that, why do you think they'd keep some lying around? Didn't they try to destroy all of them?"

"It's entirely conjecture, but it's possible that they simply confiscated a few of them rather than destroyed them utterly. Istishia's followers aren't prone to the sorts of zealotry you see from acolytes of, say, Zin. It's a chance, but it'll save me time and money if it's successful. As for the reason, Magus Hektanmeyer believes that he can reverse them and allow you to return to your plane, as well as..." He gestured. "...admittedly, I don't know the details, but he believes that the process used to create the decanters can be reverse engineered to create a 'hole' between your plane and this one. One that doesn't run the risk of catastrophic flooding."

"That's good to hear."

"It may take some time, however."

She shrugged. "I'm not going anywhere. Maybe I should talk to him; interplanar tunneling was just theoretical when I was in school."

"Perhaps, yes." Simon opened the book, slowly flipping through the pages. "How are you getting along?"

"I think people have gotten used to me."

"All things considered," he said, not looking up at her.

"All things considered."

"Mmm. A few are quite fond of you."

"People always told me I was outgoing."

"Are you sure that's all there is?" he asked, holding the pen still. "Nothing related to how you're an attractive woman physically in her twenties who gallivants about entirely nude?"

"I'm also only partially solid and green." She pressed one hand above her chest, sinking it into her body to the wrist as a demonstration. As she removed it, the gel reformed in its wake. "You'd think that would be deal-breaker."

He gave her a gentle tap on the chest with his pen. "You'd be surprised. People have shown interest in stranger."

"I'm not surprised, not at all. There's enough creation legends involving gods who couldn't keep it in their pants; why would we be any different?"

"Perhaps they've also noticed that you're..." He softly nudged her and she fell onto her back into a small pool of herself, the merged pillar of her legs splitting into two bent limbs. "...receptive to flirtation."

"Well, I mean. If someone is interested in you..." She stretched her newly-formed legs, casually spreading them. She hadn't thought about it up until now, but the end of the fountain pen was quite large compared to her. But not -too- large. "...the least you can do is let them know back."

"...and open to new experiences," he continued. He lowered the end of his pen between her legs, gently moving it in tight circles. "Very open, in fact."

Shayla moved her hips to meet it, grinding against the rounded metal tip. It was smooth, and what little friction it had quickly vanished in the face of her slickness, leaving her to slide against it no matter how hard she pushed. Making no progress, she found herself growing increasingly frustrated with her inability to push herself over the edge, and Simon's casual indifference towards the same as he sat there, scanning pages as he flipped them with his free hand. "Come on..." she moaned.

"Hm?" His eyes flitted to her for a brief moment. "Did you say something?"

"Come on!"

"'Come on,' what? What is it that you expect from me?"

She went to wrap her thighs around the end of the pen only for it to slide against them effortlessly. "Stop playing with me! I want to come!"

"Do you really." He turned another page. "What do we say?"

"What?"

"What do we say when we want to come?" There was something utterly casual about the way he said it, like he was teaching manners to a child.

Shayla ground fruitlessly against the tip for a few seconds before relenting. Blushing, she said, "please."

"You're a remarkable girl, Shayla. Even when you know you don't have to..." He lowered the pen, lining it up with her body. "...you still play along."

She let out a yelp as the pen entered her, thick and rough and absolutely massive. It didn't slide into her so much as go through her, parting her insides and taking up so much space that her body was deformed into a cylindrical shape as it wrapped around it, stopping just at her breasts. As the pen's surface rubbed against her insides she cried out, clamping her hands over her mouth and trailing off into a long moan as Simon gave it a slow, drawn-out twist between his fingers.

Huge beads of green dripped from her limbs as they twitched, her senses overloaded as the pen slowly slid in and out of her. She was fighting against the urge to melt away in pleasure, wanting to draw this out as long as possible. Her body was in a constant state of motion, slime rising up from the pool to renew her body, squeezing the pen as tightly as she could as it rolled and shifted inside of her distended form before running away.

As she was brought to orgasm yet again Shayla wrapped her arms around her midsection, feeling the pen inside of her before they melted into her abdomen. Two more rose up from where her shoulders were, lasting only seconds before falling away in a shower of droplets. Her legs sagged, then fell a moment before her body pulled away from the pen, running down either side. Shayla tilted her head back, letting out an inelegant moan as it melted away into the small emerald pool on the desk.

Simon regarded the puddle with faint curiousity. "Interesting. But suppose I do this..."

He rested his fingertip in the pool and began twirling it in tight circles. Immediately the surface began to roll and burble, the edges twitching erratically. Half-formed limbs rose up before melting away, and every so often Shayla's head appeared, gasping before sinking back into the ooze.

After a few moments of this there was a knock at the door. "Duke Lecarde, there's a messenger from Vertshire downstairs."

"I'll be with him in a moment." Simon rose to his feet and, in a lower voice, said, "I'm afraid we'll have to cut this short. Take all the time you need to compose yourself."

Her head bobbed to the surface and she let out a weak "thank you" before sinking back in.


	10. Chapter 10

It was an overcast day when Shayla spotted an unusual procession in the distance. Perhaps a bit too far in the distance; someone with a better grasp of their own relative scale and how tall they should be would have taken it as a hint that they were too large. As it stood at the moment the enormous solid stone castle she currently resided in was, to scale, little more than a large bathtub for her. Being absolutely massive didn't bother her provided nobody brought it up, and people stopped bringing it up once a gelatinous green young woman hundreds of feet tall - or more - leaning on the castle walls stopped being an ominous threat and became another feature of the landscape. A nude feature of the landscape with breasts large enough to easily crush buildings, but a feature of the landscape nonetheless.

The procession was a spot of pale blue moving against a sea of green, three magically-powered vehicles - "horseless carts," Hektanmeyer called them - coming down the road towards Rochgrisse and York's Pass. Even at range they looked too ornate to be a mere trade caravan.

Her curiosity piqued, she rose higher in the slime, leaning forward over the castle wall and giving the residents of Rochgrisse Castle's main keep a view of her backside in the process. Lowering her head, she hung upside-down in front of one of the entrances to the castle, her giant braid coiling on the ground as she fixed her attention on one of the guards. "Hey, are we expecting company?"

After an initial moment of surprise, the guard responded, "members of the Istishian clergy were set to arrive some time this week. Why, did you see something?"

"Yeah, there's a few of those..." She twirled a finger. "...fancy horseless things coming down the road."

"That would likely be them. Perhaps if madam would like to make herself more presentable before they arrived."

"Oh, that's a good point. First impressions are important."

 

*****

 

"So." His lip curled, as if he had smelled something unpleasant. "-This- was the cause of the disaster."

The priest was not terribly different from other priests Shalya had encountered: He was old, robed, dour, stodgy, bearded, and not at all fond of her. At the very least the others were polite or tactful enough to not directly insult her, least of all doing so as soon as they entered the room.

...and she had rubbed off her nipples and the Duke had given her a light cloak to wear, so that definitely wasn't the problem. "Hello, Your Excellency. I'm Shayla DuLac, and-"

He gave Simon a curt bow. "Our apologies, Duke Lecarde. Had we been more thorough, you would not have to contend with this... thing."

Shayla slowly nodded. "Okay," she said. "Okay. If that's how it's going to be." She gently hooked one hand around Simon's upper arm and leaned in. "Can we talk? In private?"

Simon gave a respectful nod to the priest and a "pardon us" before allowing himself to be lead out of the meeting room into an adjoining room.

She shut the door, leaving it open a crack for her slime trail, before turning her attention to Simon. "I can't do this."

"You should be here. This -does- concern you."

"I know that, but I can't be in the same room as him. He's already made up his mind about me, and if that's how he's going to act, then..." She sighed, fixing her "hair" by brushing back a dangling lock of slime. "Look, my track record with priests is -really- bad. We're going to end up at each others throats if this keeps up, I just know it."

He studied her intently but said nothing, which she took as a sign to keep speaking. "This is really important. I don't want to screw it up, and if just being there is going to do it then maybe I shouldn't be. You're the politician here, not me. All my charisma is-" She cupped her breasts, giving them a jiggle. "-you know?"

He let out a light laugh. "Very well, if that's how you feel."

"Thank you. This means a lot to me." She removed the cloak, passing it back to him before melting into the puddle on the floor and sliding out of the room.

 

*****

 

Much to Shayla's relief, not all of the priest's entourage were hostile. After getting a drink at one of the castle kitchens she found a member of the Istishian clergy wandering the halls: A fair-haired, pale-skinned, blue-eyed young woman in blue-and-green beaded robes who looked a bit lost, in more ways than one. As she spotted Shayla her expression brightened. "Oh! Hello there! You're Shana, right?"

"Shayla."

"Yes, that's it! I'm Inanna, one of the clerics of Istishia." She bowed. "Thank you for inviting us to your castle."

"You're welcome," she said slowly, "but it's not my castle."

Inanna looked at her oddly. "But didn't you usurp the seat of power in this region to use it as your base of conquest, keeping the Duke as a figurehead to pacify the populace?"

"Nnnnnnnnno?"

"Oh." She looked lost again. "But is it true that in your endless greed and ambition you consumed an entire plane to attain godhood?"

Shayla opened her mouth to respond before closing it, looking at her oddly. "Where did you hear all this?"

"One of the senior priests."

"I think I know who," she muttered. "But no, I'm just visiting, and it's more that I accidentally became the embodiment of a quasi-paraelemental plane; if I had any say in it I wouldn't have let it happen. I'm nowhere near godhood, I'm just... big."

"Oh, I see."

"Do a lot of people agree with him?"

Inanna shook her head. "He gets quite emotional about you compared to the others. Many believe this is his way of trying to obtain divine favor, but Istishia is dispassionate and his will immutable." The latter half of her sentence sounded almost recited to Shayla. "But there are some who think differently about you."

"Oh?"

"The one person who visited the plane described a woman of unnatural beauty."

"He probably meant 'unnatural' as in..." She gestured to her face, indicating her translucent green complexion. "...you know, this."

Inanna looked positively shocked. "Oh no, you mustn't say such things about yourself!" She took Shayla's hand in both of hers, moving in close. "You're a very beautiful woman, Shayla! You have a deep connection to water that followers of Istishia could only dream of!"

Shayla blushed as her eyes flitted between Inanna's face and their suddenly intertwined fingers. "Um. If you say so."

"You know, I have heard of what Duke Lecarde wants from us. I could give a kind word for you, but... I would ask a favor from you."

"What kind of favor?"

"Oh, a... very small favor."

 

*****

 

Inanna knelt in the center of the small room, clad only in her loose undergarments. She eyed the room nervously; nearly every surface was coated in a layer of slime, from the stone floor to the windowless walls and the ceiling above. The sole light, too, was covered, leaving leaving the room illuminated in a pale green glow. The only clean patch was the one on which she was seated, and even the future of that was in question, as the edge rippled and shifted, tendrils creeping forward before pulling back. The silence in the room was palpable, and as time ticked by Inanna found herself having to force down a sense of foreboding.

Suddenly she felt fingers brush through her hair and she jumped, turning to see Shayla all too close to her, leaning forward out of the wall. She gave Inanna a light, sinister smile. "These accommodations probably aren't what you're used to, -princess-," she said, "but I had to make a few... changes... to suit my needs."

She rose to her feet, mustering her courage as she glared at her. "Release me at once!"

"I think not." Her body extended, hanging over the ground as she closed in on her. "You're much too valuable a prize."

"Do you really expect my father to pay a ransom to -you?- By now, his armies are-"

"His armies are nothing to me, and his money just as worthless. No..." Shayla cupped her hand beneath Inanna's chin, slowly trailing her thumb across her lips. "I have everything I want right here."

Inanna jerked her head away before slapping Shayla with enough force to leave a palm-shaped impression on the side of her face. Shayla looked stunned and hurt for a brief moment before her expression hardened. The palm print disappeared, and she slowly turned back to Inanna.

"I refuse to become your bride," Inanna said.

She silently regarded her stern captive for a moment, stalling for time. She wasn't exactly expecting to be the one getting struck in this scenario. "Very well. What you will not give me..." Two tentacles lashed out from the ceiling, snapping around Inanna's wrists and pulling her arms up over her head. As she fought to pull herself free, Shayla slid one hand to the back of her head and leaned in. "...I shall simply take."

Shayla pressed her free hand against Inanna's chest before trailing a finger down her body. Inanna struggled, trying to move away from her captor before two more tentacles snaked out of the ooze below, wrapping around her legs and holding them fast. Shayla slipped her hand into her panties, and Inanna cried out as her fingers entered her.

Her hand was cold and slick, the movement of her digits rough and violent, and Inanna's hips shook from the force as Shayla roughly worked them in and out of her. She moaned, struggling feebly; Shayla merely laughed as a long tongue snaked out of her mouth, and she ran it up the side of Inanna's cheek. "Make all the noise you want. There's no one to hear you down here."

Inanna let out a gasp as Shayla's fingers continued to penetrate her. "My- my prince will-"

"-will not be coming for you." She brushed her thumb against her clit, coaxing another moan from her captive. "...and why would he, when you've been -despoiled- like this?"

"No... I..."

Shayla drew her fingers out of her, slick and wet, and held them up for her to see. "Your body betrays you." With both hands she grasped her camisole and her panties and tore them free, casually tossing them aside. "But worry not." Her body stretched, looping around Inanna, and she tipped her head up with both hands as she looked down at her with a wicked smile. "You'll forget about him soon enough."

She descended upon her, pressing her lips to Inanna's in a smothering kiss, her tongue forcing its way into her mouth as a tentacle shot up from the ground, plunging into her. Inanna let out a muffled squeal as slime entered her from both ends, probing her from above as it filled her from below. Her knees buckled, and the tentacles lifted her up, suspending her in midair helplessly.

Inanna moaned and fought as it squirmed and writhed inside her. She was sensitive - too sensitive, now - and she was brought to orgasm again and again. Her struggles grew more feeble as she gave in to carnal pleasure, her thoughts of resistance giving way to the ecstacy Shayla was giving her. Her country, her prince, her rescue - all of it was slowly forgotten, replaced by the desire to be pleased by and to please her captor, to be taken and fucked, relentlessly, as a trophy of sexual conquest.

Her body went slack as the last of her strength was wrung from her, and the tentacle between her legs withdrew, fluid running down its surface. Shayla pulled back, uncoiling from her and watching carefully as she was gently lowered to her knees. As the tentacles disappeared into the slime-covered walls she asked, "have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes." Inanna's voice was tired, her eyes empty. "My queen."

"Excellent. But your old clothes won't do. You need something more... fitting."

Shayla gestured with a finger and the slime closed in on Inanna, a thin layer creeping over her feet before running up her legs. The human woman shivered as it enveloped her, the substance moving like a thousand hands caressing her body. As it reached her waist it slowed briefly, probing inside of her before continuing on, coating the rest of her body and breasts and flowing down her arms to the tips of her fingers. It stopped at her throat, thickening into an approximation of a collar, and a thin cord of slime descended from the ceiling, attaching itself to the front of it.

It covered her entirely, yet revealed everything; Inanna wore Shayla, and at the same time Shayla imprisoned Inanna.

It was perfect.

"Make yourself comfortable, princess." Her body retracted towards the wall, smoothing out and disappearing until all that remained was her leering face. "You have a long life ahead of you as my bride."

She disappeared, and Inanna was alone.

 

*****

 

Shayla wasn't trying to avoid Inanna-

Actually, that was a lie. She was -desperately- trying to avoid Inanna.

Even though she took up the entirely of the courtyard, people assumed that the only part that was sensate was the human-shaped part, Inanna included. Thus it was simple enough to not take shape when she was around, nearby, or potentially nearby. To make sure of this, all she had to do was scout out rooms by peering through vents and listening under doors, as well as keeping watch down hallways. Simple.

Most people would consider this cowardly, no doubt, but Shayla doubted that most people were prepared to deal with how... -intense- Inanna's fantasies were. Fun and interesting, certainly, but -intense-. She was terrifyingly creative, either having all of it in mind before they met or simply thinking of it upon their meeting, and she wasn't sure which was worse. Or if she had been holding back, somehow. Shayla hoped she wasn't, for the sake of her future husband.

What was especially impressive was how quickly she rebounded from it. Inanna was tired for a few hours, naturally, but after that she was positively walking on air. People noticed how much brighter she was in the days following, though thankfully nobody suspected why. She definitely had the energy for a round two, which Shayla might have been interested in.

If she wasn't so scary.

 

*****

 

Simon set his pen down, closing the book before standing. "You'll be happy to know that the Istishian clergy have decided to help us," he told Shayla. "They were reluctant at first, as you may have surmised, but after explaining to them that the threat of flooding was very real, they changed their point of view. Some exaggeration may have been used to reach that point, though nothing fabricated."

"You could have just pointed out the window and gone 'imagine that but everywhere,'" she replied.

"I did, in so many words. The delivery of decanters will come in a few days, at which point the Lecarde court mages can begin the process of reverse engineering them, so that you may come and go at will from the plane."

"Good to h- wait, come and go?"

"Yes. Unless you wish to remain confined there."

"No! No, that's great! Thank you! Wow, I..." She rubbed the back of her neck, laughing. "Wow, I'm... I'm free. Well, I'm not free yet, but I... oh wow. Thank you." She put her hands together. "Thank you, Simon, I... this means a lot to me, it really does."

Simon nodded. "Think nothing of it. I know you've been limited to a fraction of the world, but you've certainly grown fond of it; far be it from me to banish you for a second time in your life." He paused. "Speaking of fondness of things in this world, you'll also be happy to know that priestess of Istishia do not take vows of celibacy."

Shayla froze, fending off the urge to curl into a little ball and hide for a few years. "Oh," she said in a small voice. "Oh, really."

"Yes."

"Oh. Well. It doesn't count when it's two women, though, right?"

"...yes, it does."

She gaped at him, baffled. "It does?" He nodded, and she turned to one of his aides, who also nodded. "Seriously?! Since when?"

"For a good long while, now."

"...oh."


	11. Chapter 11

A chill wind was in the air, and the clouds laid thick and low across the sky. A snowflake drifted down towards the ramparts of Rochgrisse Castle, and Shayla held out a hand to catch it, the flake lingering in her palm. There was something nostalgic about watching the first snow fall, but in a distant part of her mind there was something a bit sad about how it didn't melt, and she couldn't quite recall why.

"You don't have to do this right away," Simon said. As she turned to face him, he continued. "The research isn't completed yet. It could still be months."

She glanced up at the sky. "I know, but it's getting colder. At nights I can feel this part of me getting... thicker, I guess. Moving more slowly. I could freeze, and I don't know what'll happen if I do." She rubbed her arm. "There's a lot of possibilities, and I don't want to think about any of them."

Simon slowly nodded. "Very well, if you've made your mind up about it." He held out his hand to one of the robed men beside him, who handed him an old flask covered with silver filigree. "Place this next to the other decanter," he said, passing it to Shayla, "and read the word on the plate."

"Okay." Giving the stopper a tug, her eyes turned to something below her, out of sight, before snapping up again. "Oh! I know you wanted to do some farming in the courtyard so I poked around below ground a little bit and dug a tunnel down through to an underground river about a half-mile..." She paused, fingers working slowly as if she were feeling around for something, before pointing off into the distance. "...that way. The last couple of feet are still walled off, so you're going to need something like a wand of digging- do you still have wands of digging?"

Two of the robed figures behind Simon exchanged glances, and one gestured with his head towards Shayla as the other gave him a faint half-smile. "Something like them, yes," Simon said.

"Okay, good. Just be careful, it's a lot of water." She looked down at the flask in her hand. "Well, here goes."

The center of the lake began to ripple, and Shayla slid across its surface towards its source. A faint silhouette rose up from her murky depths, and the decanter of endless water broke through the surface, still spilling green slime. Shayla raised it up on a thick pillar, grabbing it with one hand and, bringing the other flask close, said, "vortex!"

The silver-lined flask began to hiss and tremble, at first gently, then quickly growing so violent that Shayla feared that it would tear itself from her grip. The stream from the decanter split in twain, half heading into the flask and half continuing to flow down before slowing, halting, and rapidly flowing in reverse, drawing Shayla up from the lake. The suction continued to accelerate as the surface was pulled up in points around her, twisting in the air before being drawn in.

"Oh wow, this is going pretty fast," she muttered. Her braid slipped over her shoulder to her front, pulled by the unseen force. Immediately after there was a tugging at her chest; her breasts lifted up, and she let out a yelp as they and her braid distorted into two streams of slime, the pull quickly spreading to the rest of her body. Looking over her shoulder she shouted, "remember, you promised! This isn't goodbye, just see you laOH THO-"

With a "schlurp" she was pulled head-first into the flask, and both containers fell to the top of the slime before sinking away.

 

*****

 

Shayla wasn't sure when it happened, but she found herself suddenly aware of something that wasn't her in her.

It was small, which was probably why it evaded her notice for... however long that was, but "small" wasn't saying much considering her scale was on the planar side. It was also practically invisible, forcing her to investigate it by touch. She pressed against it, finding it flat; remarkably so, as further prodding revealed that it was a nigh-infinitely flat disc. Applying pressure revealed a permeable membrane that still provided some resistance, and lead to some place which was distinctly -not her-. She drew back, more to confirm that she could than out of any desire to do so.

It was a portal. An honest-to-Thoth two-way portal.

Her entirety rolled and trembled in her eagerness, wanting to dive through and at the same time knowing what that could entail. Becoming a massive flood had happened to her by accident, once; doing it on purpose would be unthinkable. So poked the smallest bit of herself through, getting a feel for the scale of wherever the portal was before carefully going further.

 

*****

 

"Did it work?"

One of the court maguses of the Lecarde Kingdom pointed to a growing spot on the tiled floor. "There, sire."

Simon Lecarde approached the small, quivering green blob, small enough to fit in his palm, and smiled down at it. "Welcome back, Shayla."

The blob surged up into a wave crested by a ponytailed woman's head that flew forward, wrapping around Simon from both sides as she completely engulfed him from the neck down. Resting her head on his shoulder she gave him a full-body squeeze. "You kept your promise," she said softly.

"Of course."

"Thank you."

He would have given her a comforting pat on the back, had she a back or he the ability to move his arms. As it was, he simply let her hold him for a while, until he felt something undo the top button of his shirt. "Shayla."

"Mmm?"

"I'm married."

She immediately pulled away, her body flowing into its normal human form holding him at arms length with such speed that he could barely follow it. "I didn't touch anything," she said, holding up her arms. Spotting another person in the room, she pointed at him. "I didn't touch anything!" A second later realization caught up with her. "Wait, since when? How long was I gone?"

"Six years, roughly."

She fell silent. "It's strange, but I barely noticed."

"It would have been done sooner, but my father passed away and a few of my brothers and sisters started an argument about succession which snowballed rather quickly. My country was in quite the state for a time."

"Oh, don't worry about it," she replied, waving one hand. "Family comes first. How are things, if you don't mind me asking? What happened to your... was it eight siblings?"

"Ten. I won't bore you with details, but suffice to say that I'm currently King and an only child."

She stared at him for a few seconds. "I'm -so- glad I'm on your good side. But..." She looked around at the men and women in the room with her. "...this doesn't look like Rochgrisse. Where are we?"

"A magical research laboratory in the country's outskirts. We selected something remote in case... accidents happened."

"How are you feeling?" an older man asked. "Is the portal operating properly? No unusual side effects?"

She looked down at herself before slowly sliding around the room, moving to and fro on a solid pillar of green slime. "Is one side of the portal moving with me?" One of the maguses nodded. "Because it feels like I'm reaching into a hole like before, but it also feels like I'm actually moving under my own power instead of just groping around." The pillar split in two, forming bare legs, and she did a full turn on the balls of her feet. "It might just be a trick of the mind, but I'm not complaining. It feels good. But what's powering the portal?"

"You are," a middle-aged woman said. "We managed to contrive a way to create a portal that is then fueled by a more stable secondary source." She adjusted her glasses. "Provided that the former Elemental Plane of Water doesn't run out of magical energy-"

Shayla let out a short bark of laughter.

"-it should be effectively infinite. Suffice to say, this research will lead to numerous future applications."

"Okay, well, I'm not saying that I want you to do it right now, but if you do this again, make sure you have a way to close it. I don't think I've ever been to a dimension or plane that hasn't been full of things I wouldn't want to let out of it."

The woman looked almost offended. "Miss DuLac, we're using the utmost caution when-"

"No, listen to me," she said, walking past Simon and approaching the sorceress. "I have been to Hell. Be. -Very-. Careful. I already saved the world once, kind of. I don't want to have to do it again."

"Barring preventing future catastrophes," Simon began, "or having others cause them by dragging you into them, what are your plans?"

Shayla opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, losing herself in thought. A few moments later she shook her head slowly. "Well. There's nothing really tying me down, and I don't have anything to go back to. A lot changes in two hundred years, you know? But this is another second chance for me, so why not see first-hand what's changed?"

"Very well. If ever you need someplace to stay, Lecarde is available to you."

She smiled. "Thanks, Simon."

"Perhaps she can get some clothes before she leaves," one of the maguses muttered.

She gave him a look. "Why is everyone still obsessed with clothing?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted under the title "YAAP."

The vehicle rolled down the stone road, fenced-off farmland passing by on either side. The driver was relaxed, leaning back, one arm resting on the top of the seat beside him, the other half-holding the control stick loosely and keeping its movement on track. Resting in the back was a modest shipment of furniture, including several barrels, one of which contained a woman composed entirely of thick, translucent green slime. Or, to be more specific, the woman-shaped appendage of a slime plane being thrust through a hole in dimensions. To be more specific still, Shayla DuLac.

Her upper half was fully formed, arms crossed, elbows resting on the rim of the barrel as she watched the fences and fields, enjoying the simple act of motion and seeing the world gradually change around her. The rest of her from the waist down was pooled in the bottom, jostling and rippling as the vehicle bounced down the stone road. She reached one hand over her shoulder, brushing back her deep emerald braid; for the first time in a good long while she didn't have anywhere to be or any sort of doom to stop or stop herself from becoming, which felt... nice.

The cart came to a stop at the crossroads, and the driver pointed down the narrower road. "Just head along here to Ranton," he said, "and then on to Moncade. You should  
start seeing signs pointing you to   
Angouleme, and there you are."

Shayla sank into the bucket before lunging out in an arc, landing and collecting in a blob on the ground before rising up to her full height, the surface shifting as she resolved herself into her normal form. From beside the bucket she picked up her sole article of clothing, a light, earth-toned cloak with a metal clasp, and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Thanks for the ride. Take care now."

"You too." The driver casually waved one hand as the cart rolled away. "Don't flood any more castles, you hear?"

She stared after him. "One time! That was -one time!-"

 

*****

 

The road to Ranton wasn't busy at all - out of season for travel, perhaps, or simply not a major trade route. Shayla couldn't say, though at least the view was pleasant.

As evening fell she held up her palm, conjuring a small ball of light which refracted through her, casting her surroundings in a shimmering, pale green glow. It was enough to travel by, but as the darkness encroached she thought it best for her own safety to find some place to stay until morning. Though, admittedly, she hadn't seen anything to feel safe against, and she wasn't really sure what would constitute a threat to her anymore, but still.

In the distance she spotted a point of light and, as she neared it, saw that there was a campfire some ways off the road. Leaving the stone path she approached it; the fire was strong and relatively new but abandoned save for a large chest a few feet from the flame. Even in the flickering light it was easy to see the craftsmanship of it, built of mahogany and brass and bound in studded leather of all things. It was strangely familiar, though Shayla couldn't recall why.

After scanning the area to see if she couldn't find the chest's owners, she lowered herself down and opened the lid, gaining a glimpse of a few books and rations. Suddenly the lid snapped shut, nearly severing her fingers before slamming into her, knocking her onto her back as it began to warp and shift, moving with a fluidity that could never be of normal wood.

Shayla rose back up as she raised one hand and prepared to defend herself, the sharp, pungent scent of raw magical energy filling the air as space bent and distorted between her fingers. The chest held a footman's mace at the ready as it completed its transformation, facing down Shayla as a mahogany-skinned woman wearing a time-worn brigandine, a mess of short hair half-covering her eyes, which had a metallic glimmer in the firelight. She stood there, waiting for Shayla to make the first move, and after a few tense seconds her determined expression changed to one of awed disbelief as she lowered her weapon. "...Shayla?"

Shayla blinked. "Yes?"

She took a slow step forward. "Shayla DuLac? From the dungeon?"

With a gesture she dismissed the charge in her hand. "Yeah, but how would you-"

Her words were cut short as the woman tackled her, squeezing her with so much force that her arms passed halfway through Shayla's waist. "SHAYLA!" She buried her face in her breasts, laughing. "It's you! It's really you!"

"Have we met? You said 'the dungeon,' but..." She trailed off, thinking for a few seconds before her eyes went wide. "...it can't be." The woman pulled away, still smiling, and knelt in front of Shayla as she pointed numbly at her. "You're the mimic?"

"Yes! You remember!"

"Yeah, but how? It's been over two hundred years."

"It's a bit of a story. You remember the water elemental you gave the amulet to." Shayla nodded. "She was successful. As she offered up the amulet she disappeared in a pillar of light." Her smile faded. "I didn't understand what had happened at first, but eventually I realized that I was left behind. I was scared. I thought that some of your belongings might help me escape, but I couldn't read. In my desperation I tried teaching myself how using your spellbooks, which was... unsuccessful." She sat back, crossing her legs and lowering her head. It was a moment before she began speaking again. "So I cried, calling out for you, hoping that you'd appear perfectly fine again and save me. It was the only thing I could do at the time. But you were gone."

"I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault. Eventually, I wasn't sure when, I saw a robed figure in the temple, maybe a servant of Thoth come to investigate. It saw me, and it must have known I didn't belong there, because one minute I was there and the next I was... back here. I found out later that time flows differently in the Astral Plane. Years had passed, but it didn't really matter since I was... sort of dumb at the time and didn't understand."

"You weren't-"

"No, I was dumb. You can say it. I didn't know anything, I was just born to be storage for some necromancer. Eventually I was found by a group of caravan guards, who took me in. I worked as a porter, and later, as a guard." She gestured to her mace. "They taught me how to read, so with the money I earned I bought a... lot of books. I didn't have a house or anything else to pay for, so I just learned." She smiled wistfully. "It wasn't a complex life, but it was a good one while it lasted."

"'While it lasted?' What happened? Did one of the caravans get attacked and wiped out?"

"No, we just went out of business. The roads have been getting safer these past few years, so there was no demand for our services anymore. But what about you? The last I saw of you, you were absorbing the Plane of Water. How did you escape?"

"I, uh..." Shayla brushed back a lock of slime. "I didn't. I'm still technically there. Or rather, I'm technically the Plane."

"You look normal to me." She paused. "Or as normal as you get."

She gave her a look. "I think the saying is that I took the long way to get here. For a few months I resurfaced temporarily at-"

"-Rochgrisse Castle, I know. There were reports of... what was the wording they used? A 'grossly massive slime woman,' I think it was. When I heard that I knew it had to be you and hurried over, but by the time I arrived you were gone."

"Yeah, there was a little bit of a problem involving magical artifacts made before our time. Luckily it got ironed out and..." She gestured. "...I'm here."

"It's good to see you again."

"Same here."

The mimic nodded, smiling before she looked away, lost in thought. She lowered her head for a few seconds. "Actually, there's more to it than just that. I, um..." Her eyes met Shayla's gaze. "I had a thing for you when I was younger, and... seeing you again brought it all back."

"A thing?"

"A sex thing. I didn't fully understand it when I was young, because like I said, I was dumb, but... when you were inside of me I -felt- things, you know? Plus you basically taught me how to masturbate, so there's that." She paused again. "I don't know how you felt about it, though, and this is probably very awkward for you, hearing all of this from a near-complete stranger." She shook her head. "If you want to forget about-"

Shayla slid forward, rising up and sitting on the mimic's lap. Her legs snaked out of the pool of her body, wrapping around the mimic's waist as she put her arms around her shoulders.

The mimic looked up at her in disbelief. "Is this the same woman who had to work up the courage to proposition an incubus?"

"I guess we were both kind of dumb when we were younger." She leaned in, pressing her lips to the mimic's. There was a brief moment of surprise before she wrapped her arms around Shayla, her lips parted, and she returned the kiss in kind. Her teeth were sharp and her mouth had a faint tang of brass, but her movements were surprisingly gentle as she probed Shayla's mouth.

After a long while they pulled away, and Shayla gave her a gentle smile. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"It's alright," she replied. "It was worth it."


	13. Chapter 13

Ranton was larger and more developed than York's Pass, with more and taller stone buildings and wider roads. The center of the town was organic in its design, a spiderweb of streets that slowly became more orthogonal as they spread outward in the city planners' attempts to impose some semblance of order on the town's development, with limited success.

Absolutely none of this was of use to Shayla, her both never being in Ranton before and missing out on two hundred years of progress in urban development. "So. Where to?"

"I know a place the guys and I used to stay overnight." The mimic pointed. "It's just down this way."

The mimic strode on and Shayla followed, spending the next few minutes turning at intersections seemingly at random. Rounding another corner, the sameness of the buildings was suddenly disrupted by a clean and well-maintained temple entrance of white stone, outside of which were two singularly striking young women in thin robes. As Shayla's escort neared, they smiled, and she waved at them. "Evening, ladies."

"Hi, Mimic. Who's your friend?"

Shayla arched an eyebrow. "They named you 'Mimic?'"

The mimic looked back at her over her shoulder and nodded.

"That is incredibly lazy."

"It was the first thing that stuck. I didn't even need a name, since there was nothing else to confuse me with."

"That's fair, I guess." Then, to the woman, "I'm Shayla."

"Are you just a friend?" the second asked. "Or something more?"

Shayla brought herself to a sudden halt outside the temple. "Mimic, what -are- we?" She waved one hand. "Wait, no, first of all, how do you know her?"

"She's stopped in a few times. She's quite pious."

She nodded, scanning the exterior of the temple before her expression fell. "Mimic, get over here."

Mimic turned, heading back to her. "Is there a problem?"

"This is a temple to Mylittsu."

"Yes."

"These are prostitutes."

"-Sacred- prostitutes." A second later she asked, "are you upset that I had sex with people between the time we were separated and now?"

"That-" She thought for a second. "Not really, no. I did the same thing. I'm just sort of surprised, is all. Paying for sex isn't something that I've ever needed to do."

"They're a little bit more open-minded than the average woman."

Shayla gestured to herself. "Green goo."

"You don't have clockwork down there." Then, to the priestesses, "she would know. She popped my lock the first time we met."

They exchanged a look. "Oh my," they said in unison.

"I found out the hard way that sex with men wasn't... feasible. Besides, I didn't have a home to pay for."

"Okay, so that's reasonable. But you told me you still loved me and you're flirting with pr- sacred prostitutes."

"I love them too, just in a different way."

"Do you love the people you've been with the same way you love her?" the first priestess asked.

Shayla scratched the back of her neck, thinking. "Not really. Being with them felt good, but Mimic was- is different. We were through a lot, and I know that even though it's years later I can still rely on her."

"If she had to choose between returning to you or to us, she would choose you," the first said.

"This much is clear," the second added, "and we'd not have it any other way."

"But at the same time," Shayla continued, "there's just... I mean, I've seen..." She sighed.

"There's a lot of very attractive people in the world."

"Exactly!"

Mimic nodded. "That sounds about right."

"Both of you seek out the embrace of others for many reasons," the first priestess said, "but at the same time, there are things that cannot be found in anyone but your partner."

"So we, what?" Shayla gestured. "We see other people, but we also stay together?" The priestesses nodded. "...I'd be okay with that."

"Likewise," Mimic said. "I trusted you with my life. I can trust you with this."

Shayla nodded to herself before turning to the priestesses. "You're really -good- at this."

"We have experience in matters of spiritual guidance," the second said.

"If you find yourself in need of direction or solace in the future," the first said, "by all means, seek us out."

"Thanks for the offer," Shayla replied, "but I'll pass. I don't want to get too much into it, but I've sworn off having sex with clergy for a bit."


	14. Chapter 14

Mimic pushed the door open, waving to the heavy-set man behind the bar. "Afternoon, Marc."

Marc nodded in response as he dropped a few coins into the till. Sliding it shut with the back of his hand, he casually pointed to Shayla. "New friend?"

She smiled. "Old friend."

He nodded again, then said to Shayla, "heard you were taller."

Shayla sighed. "Does -everybody- remember who I am?"

"You were the most interesting thing to happen in York's Pass in years," Mimic replied.

They stepped up to the bar, and Mimic sat down on one of the stools. Shayla circled around, and the pillar of her legs lengthened as she raised herself up and took a seat. The pool around her feet retracted and lifted up as the slime below her waist split, forming her lower body, and she turned to the side and crossed her legs.

"So," Marc said, "what'll it be?"

"Beer," Mimic said.

"A glass of red wine," Shayla said.

She pointed over at her. "Glass of juice. She's not good with alcohol."

"I can hold my liquor perfectly fine, thank you."

"No you can't. Remember that time you got drunk and passed out in a puddle, and when you woke up you started crying because you thought you lost your legs?"

"Cut off?" Marc asked.

"No, physically lost. Fifteen minutes later she found a pair of boots and started crying again because she thought it was another mimic making fun of her."

"What she's not telling you is that it was an entire bottle of potato brandy." Shayla held up a finger. "Which I didn't know at the time, because my sense of taste wasn't fully back yet. I thought it was water." She tapped the bar. "Wine me."

He looked between them, then gave a half-shrug before turning away to prepare their drinks.

"So has anything interesting happened since last I was here?" Mimic asked.

"Interesting, yes, good, no. Locals are scared."

"What of?"

"Dragon. Took up roost in the hills nearby."

"That's odd. They don't normally come this close to settlements."

"There's been rumors." He turned back towards them, setting their drinks down on the bar. "It's seeking virgin maidens to serve as a vessel for some unholy essence."

Mimic frowned. She pushed down the hem of her pants, and a narrow gap opened in her abdomen. Reaching in, she pulled out a dog-eared paperback almanac and began paging through it.

Shayla glanced over at Mimic before taking a sip of her wine. "Okay, so you need a dragon killed before it attains lichdom or something. No problem, I've killed dragons before."

"She's not bragging," Mimic said. "Or rather, she is, but she's not w-" She stopped, peering intently at the book as she scanned one of the passages again. She glanced up at the calendar on the wall, then back at the book before flipping through a few pages. "She's not wrong."

"There, you see? Mimic and I can take care of it, no problem."

"You can," she corrected, closing the almanac.

"...you want me to fight a dragon alone?"

"You know how rumors are. They make things sound worse than it really is. I'd wager that you could simply talk to it." She took a drink of her beer. "If that doesn't work, then you kill it."

She stared at her for a few seconds before throwing back the rest of her wine and flowing off of the stool. "Alright," she said, a deep purple bubble slowly making its way down to her abdomen. "I get the feeling I'm not getting the full story from you, but alright."

"You think I'm pulling a prank on you."

"Yeah, but considering that you just told me to fight a dragon by myself, it's got to be one hell of a prank." She waved behind her as she glided away. "I'll be back in a few hours."

 

*****

 

The cave was a moderate distance from town, nestled between two hills in a low-lying valley. The mouth was large but not gaping, which boded well for the scale of its inhabitant. Illuminating the interior in a blue-white glow was a magic lantern resting atop a table, the rest of the latter's surface covered in clockwork devices. Despite the strength of the light, the cave's further recesses were bathed in darkness.

Shayla entered, passing by the lantern, then stopped suddenly when she saw a shadow moving some yards in front of her. There was the scraping of stone, the shifting of some heavy body, and the glint of serpentine eyes. She froze, and there was a snort as the beast sniffed the air.

"You smell of rain and rivers." Its voice was low and sonorous. "Yet your coloring is different. What matter of creature are you?"

"It's a... really long story. But I'm here because of the town."

It let out a disparaging snort. "They're telling tales of me, are they?"

"Yeah, the words they used were 'virgin maidens' and 'vessel for unholy essence.' Probably an exaggeration, but there's a chance it isn't."

"Have they sent you here as a virgin offering?"

Shayla exploded into gales of laughter, doubling over in front of the beast. The lower half of her body wavered and shook, and she nearly toppled over, holding out one hand for balance before covering her face with it once she was standing again. She eventually wound down into a long giggle, and wagged a finger at it. "Ohhhh, good one. No, no, I'm not a virgin, ritualistic or otherwise."

The beast silently regarded her for a few moments. "Odd that you don't fear me."

"I've been through a lot, and besides, you don't have the equipment necessary for necromancy here. But." She held up an index finger. "There's usually some truth in rumors."

"I will not lie: I do seek females as vessels. The process is not 'unholy,' as they have termed it."

"Is it permanent? Temporary?"

"It is quite temporary. However, their concern is not unjustified. The process may be harmful to human women."

"Dwarves, then? Elves?"

"No, they would suffer from the same issues."

"What is it that you need to put into them?"

"My spirit."

"So it -is- magical in nature."

"No, it's merely my... emissions." She furrowed her brow, head tilting to the side. In the darkness of the cavern she could barely make out one claw raising as it covered where the beast's face would be. "My seed."

"Oh. Ohhhhhhh!" She paused. "But couldn't you find another dragon?"

"But if I could. Locating one has been fruitless, and the task has proven increasingly difficult due to certain... rising immutable urges which are ingrained in us."

Shayla nodded, then a second later asked, "do you want me to help?"

"Help?"

"Yeah, you're pent-up and you need-"

"I could not possibly impose such a thing upon a frailer creature."

"If you're worried about hurting me, don't be." She removed her cloak, folding it up before gently tossing it away. "I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't up to the task." She took his silence as understanding and a few seconds later added, "although, maybe if you could change into a form that would make it a little less awkward, physically, that would be nice."

What little she could see of the beast disappeared into the shadows. It let out a deep, rumbling growl, and there was the unsettling cracking and twisting of meat and bone before an ominous silence. From out of the darkness stepped a muscular, dark-haired, and sharp-featured figure, humanoid yet distinctly draconian, clad only in a simple loincloth. He towered over Shayla as he walked forward on taloned feet, twisted horns adding further height over her. His limbs, cheeks, and back were covered in rust-colored scales, giving way to bare flesh across his face and chest, and as he moved his thick tail swayed behind him.

Shayla blinked. "Wow. I mean, you're tall and scaly, but if you were gentle I don't think ordinary women would have a problem."

The dragon reached down to his waist, removing the loincloth, and despite herself she couldn't help but stare. It was large, even in proportion to the rest of him, even -flaccid-, and unusually ridged, with knobbly bumps along either side of it. No wonder he was so worried, she thought. He would practically break a normal woman in half. If he didn't scare them off first.

"You understand now the cause for concern," he said.

"I do, but I've come this far." She sank into a pool of herself, lowering her body to the height of his waist as she approached him. "Might as well go all the way."

She placed one hand underneath him, lifting it up before taking it in both hands, gently moving her fingers across the bumps and ridges along his length. She aimed it towards her face, opening her mouth before closing it again. Eyeing it carefully, she measured its size, then pressed her lips against the tip before taking it in, letting it push the slime of her lips and mouth apart, stretching them as she engulfed it.

The dragon had a salty and smoky taste as it slid along her tongue, inch by inch. She raised herself up to her feet, leaning forward, holding his hips for support and tilting her head back so he could slide freely down her neck. The strange contours rubbed and tugged at the gel in her insides as they passed by. She stopped as he felt him stiffen, his growing member pushing her even wider, her jaw now unhinged to a massive degree. Once he was fully hard she continued, pressing on, until finally her lips met his base.

Shayla looked up at him as best she could as the dragon looked down at her, so massive that he ended partly in her body behind her breasts. "I will not say that your act," he said, "and your generosity are not impressive."

She would have smiled were she able. Instead, she merely lengthened her tongue, wrapping around him in her mouth as she began to move her head. As she pulled away she caressed him, running it along the ridges and underside, being rewarded with low moans. As she reached the tip she pressed forward, the bumps and ridges of his length pushing and massaging her insides. Back and forth she moved, making her insides slick and soft, drawing it out as she took in his musk and felt the heat of his body, and the churning of her insides.

As the minutes ticked by the dragon's grunts and groans grew more urgent, and he began thrusting towards her as she took him into herself. In response, Shayla drew away from him as slowly as she could, tongue swirling and snaking around him in her mouth, and listened as the groaning slowly become a single, low rumble. She came to a stop at his tip, lips lingering around his head as her tongue flicked across it.

The dragon growled, gripping Shayla's sides before thrusting into her with such force that her face flattened against his abdomen from the impact. "Do not -toy- with me!" He pulled back his hips before driving them forward again, and a third time, pistoning away. Her entire body shook and rocked, her insides churned and stroked by his inhuman anatomy. As he pounded away he began to grow unnaturally warm inside of her, and he began to twitch she tightened his grip around him, squeezing her lips closed as he roared and came.

The dragon spilled into her like a torrent, hot and thick, shooting through her with a strength she hadn't felt before and pooling in a ball where her stomach would be. Then came another spurt, and another, each as strong as the first, building up inside of her and becoming a rapidly-growing weight in her midsection. Her gut bulged, wobbling and shaking as it filled with his seed, at first growing round, then pregnant-looking, then a swollen mockery of pregnancy, dangling down to the height of her knees.

With a final thrust the dragon was spent, and it let out a low rumbling growl. Sliding him out of her mouth Shayla pulled away, holding one hand to her mouth to keep the last of it inside of her. She straightened up too quickly, overcompensating for her new center of balance, and teetered before falling onto her backside, her cum-filled gut wobbling and shaking from the impact. Swallowing, she gasped, cradling her bloated stomach.

"My apologies," he said. "My... eagerness and instincts overcame me."

Shayla waved one hand dazedly, looking herself over. "It's fine, I'm not hurt. Feeling better?"

"Much, yes. You have my gratitude."

She gave him a weary smile. "Hey. I told you I was up to the task."

 

*****

 

Mimic lay on the bed, one hand behind her head on the pillow as she held a book in the other, reading it by lamplight. There was a click of a turning key, the squeaking of hinges, and a few seconds later Shayla glided in, with a large, creamy, and cream-colored ball in her abdomen.

She did a double-take before closing her book and sitting up. "Shayla? What is that?"

Shayla put both hands on the sides of her belly, giving it a shake. "This," she said, "is five gallons of dragon cum."

"You -fucked- a -dragon-."

"I fucked a dragon." She held up a fist and pointed to her forearm with her other hand. "It was this big."

"It's a recorded fact that dragons can take on a humanoid form-"

"He -was- in a humanoid form."

Mimic boggled.

"...was I not supposed to fuck the dragon?"

"I..." She crossed her legs. "I'll be frank: I was aware the this was mating season for dragons, though I expected you to play matchmaker."

"...oh." Shayla approached the bed. "Well, the problem is solved, so that's the important part."

"Wait a moment, what are you doing?"

"I'm getting in bed. With you."

"With -five gallons of dragon cum- in you. I'm not sleeping next to that. What if you pop?"

She laughed. "I'm not going to-" Shayla's smile suddenly faded as her belly twitched, and she put both hands on either side of it as it began trembling and shuddering. "Oh no."

She pointed. "Don't you dare."

"I'm gonna blow!"

"Shayla DuLac, don't you DARE."

"I'M GONNA BLOW!!"

Mimic scrambled to the side, rolling off the bed and hiding behind it. "You are NOT going to explode all over-"

The trembling came to a sudden halt as Shayla broke out laughing.

Mimic winged a pillow at her face. "That's it. You're sleeping in the bathtub."


	15. Chapter 15

As Mimic left the bath with only a towel draped over her head, Shayla was reminded again just how lucky she was. Mimic's body was a deep reddish-brown, toned and muscular from years of heavy lifting and travel. Her surface, hard like wood yet giving like flesh, was wood-grained, the nicks and cuts gained from being both a chest and a guard brief interruptions in the pattern. As she pulled the towel away, fine strands of brass draped every which way, half-covering metallic eyes, which turned and met her gaze. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Shayla replied. "Just admiring the view."

Mimic smiled. "Speaking of views, we're two days' travel from Angouleme. You're nearly home."

She nodded as she sat up, sliding off the bed and rising to a standing position before slowly circling around the room.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm just... nervous, that's all." She paused at the window, staring out at the nearby forest. "Going back to the place where you grew up after being gone for so long. You know how it is."

"I don't, but I understand." She came up behind her, gently sliding her hands beneath her arms and around her waist. "Need something to distract you?"

Shayla gave a light laugh, then lapsed into silence for a moment. "Mimic," she began, "do you want to be inside of me for once?"

"What are you planning?"

She took Mimic's hands in hers and her body softened, losing features as she shrank down, becoming a pillar of slime with two long psuedopods. Shayla slid back, flowing and engulfing Mimic, spreading herself in a thin layer across her torso and around her back before covering her arms and legs. Mimic pulled away in surprise, her feet lifting just enough for Shayla to slide beneath them, enveloping the last few inches of her body.

Mimic stared down at herself, turning her hands over in front of her. Everything from her neck down was coated in a layer of translucent green slime - Shayla, she reminded herself. She was cool and damp but not uncomfortably so, and must have been supporting herself because she couldn't feel the weight of her. She stepped away from the window, unsure if she was wearing her or being held by her. "Shayla?" Mimic shivered as she felt a finger run up her spine, and she turned, seeing nothing.

She turned back, and atop the slope of Mimic's breast rose Shayla, no taller than a chess piece, looking as a small figurine of flowing green glass. "Yes?" She asked. "How is it?"

"It's..." She paused, searching for words. "It's like behind held by you, except everywhere. Strange, but rather pleasant."

"Good to hear. To be honest, I'm focusing a lot of my sensory input on you, so I'm basically touching, tasting, and smelling you all at once, and..." She bit her lip. "...I'm taking in so much of you at once that it's really hard to hold back, so." She laughed nervously. "I think you can guess what I'm going to ask next."

Mimic reached up, gently stroking Shayla's cheek with her finger. "I trust you. Do what you will with me."

Shayla nodded, and Mimic felt two hands against her shoulders. She stepped back, easing herself onto the bed as she felt a third touch her back, giving her the impression of being held as she lowered herself down. The touch of third disappeared as the fingertips of the first two trailed down, cupping her breasts. Then, lightly, a set of lips gently kissed her inner thigh.

Mimic shivered at the touch, feeling the lips move up her leg, when suddenly a second set appeared on the other, alternating between them. She reflexively shifted and the lips followed, heading for the cleft of her legs. Reaching down, she touched where the lips were, finding slime on bare skin; in response, a set formed around her index finger. She pulled away and the unseen mouth followed, sucking on her finger.

Two more mouths formed around her cupped breasts, tongues flicking across Mimic's nipples. Her back arched in surprise, and from her position atop her Shayla smiled in response. She didn't move, but Mimic could feel a finger trace down her abs before two more hands pressed into her sides. They slid beneath her and grabbed her backside, and Mimic gasped as a too-long tongue press into her womanhood, entering her.

She pressed one slime-coated hand across her mouth to muffle her moans as Shayla plunged into her, pressing and probing, the mechanics of her lock ticking and clicking at her touch. She felt countless hands and mouths across her skin, caressing her, licking her, massaging every inch of her body. Her body felt as if it were floating, supported by Shayla as she enveloped her, her minute figure simply watching as she overloaded her senses.

The slime around Mimic's arm tightened and thickened, ever so slightly, as it pulled away from her face. "Don't cover your face," Shayla said gently. "I want to hear your voice."

As the slime squirmed inside of her, Mimic's hips twitched and spasmed, and she let out a quiet series of staccato squeaks as she came. It would not be the last time that evening.


	16. Chapter 16

Angouleme was a quiet town, supporting itself through crafts and farming. Spread across the surrounding acres were fields of wheat and livestock. In the distance was a dense forest, a logging camp near the edge. The town itself was modest in its construction, with a few low stone buildings among taller wooden ones. It was quiet, it was Shayla's home, and it was utterly alien.

She stared silently at the town as the wind gently blew, and after what felt like an eternity, she turned and slowly slid away.

Mimic watched her for a second in disbelief before stepping in front of her. "Wait a moment, you're leaving? Isn't this your hometown?"

Shayla looked back over her shoulder. "It is, or... was. But it doesn't feel like it anymore; everything has changed." She shook her head. "As much as I don't want to think about it, it's been over two hundred years. I don't know why I thought I could just go back like nothing ever happened." She tiredly ran her hand over her hair before rubbing the back of her neck. "But everything is gone. The only thing that I have left is..." She turned to Mimic. "...you."

"I'm flattered, but you also have Rochgrisse, and King Lecarde."

"He's a -king- now. I can't just knock on his door and ask to sleep in his tub."

"He'd hire you as a court magus if you asked."

"With magical knowledge that's two centuries out of date?"

"...and effectively infinite magical reserves. I'm just a foot soldier with better carrying capacity. If he's anything like you said he was, wouldn't leave you high and dry."

Shayla lapsed into silence for a few moments before speaking again. "Thank you."

"Any time."

"So, what now?"

"Honestly? Where's the Dungeon from here?"

"Oh, it's um..." She gestured down the road. "...somewhere that way. Not far, though. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious."

She gave her a look. "You want to embarrass me in front of the incubus."

"I want to see round two with the incubus, -without you holding back-."

Shayla made a big show of cracking her knuckles, not making much at all in the way of noise. "He better invite his friends, then."

 

*****

 

"You know," Mimic said, "doesn't the archway look like a gateway?"

Shayla scanned the half-circle of stone over the entrance. "Now that you mention it. It must activate based on proximity to the Amulet, as part of a failsafe. I'm surprised I didn't realize it earlier. It's completely inert, though. Probably for years."

As they entered, Mimic removed an unlit torch from the wall, holding it out to the side. After a few seconds she gave it a little waggle, only for Shayla to slide past her and extend a hand. "Cover your eyes."

She did as she was told, squeezing her eyes shut and blocking them with her palm. There was a flash of light that bordered on painful, that gave way to a more natural level of illumination. As she removed her hand, the room and surrounding halls filled with light that cast no shadow and seemed to emanate from everywhere, the air filled with sparkling motes. "That's right," Mimic said, scanning the room. "I forgot you could do that."

"Now if I recall," Shayla said, heading down one of the hallways, "the stairs should be around here."

"Wouldn't it be funny if we went down there and that priest was still screaming about the Amulet?"

A short bark of laugh came at her from out of view. "Nah, he's probably dead for good by now."

"You say that, but he certainly got back up a bunch of-" She cut herself off, spotting something at the base of the wall. Peering at it, she approached and leaned in. "Shayla, come look at this."

"What is it?"

"I don't know, but I think it has to do with you."

Shayla returned to the room, trying to follow Mimic's line of sight. "What is it? What am I looking at?"

Mimic pointed. Beside a wide crack in the wall was a symbol - a circle with three curved intersecting lines trailing down from it - shallowly etched in stone, as if corroded away. Beneath it, on the floor, was a small pile of glass shards and polished stones. It took several seconds for it to dawn on her, but once it did there was an ominous sinking feeling in her chest. "It's..."

"...an altar," Mimic finished. "To you."

She took a few seconds to compose herself. "Okay," she said, holding up a finger. "Okay. It's not that I'm not flattered, but this raises -so- many questions. Like: Why?"

"Why not?"

"I'm not a god."

"Whoever did this either doesn't know or doesn't care. You might say you're not a god, but you can grow to a thousand feet tall and throw fireballs that can destroy armies, and that's close enough for some. Gods only know the ratlings worshiped less."

"Fine, whatever, now the next question: Who?"

"Well." She leaned in for inspection. "They're small, and they're acidic. That should narrow it down."

Beside her, a translucent amber gel forced its way out of the crack in the wall. Its edges flowed and distorted as it dragged itself along, coming to a stop some feet from Shayla and Mimic. Mimic quietly regarded it for a few seconds, then turned to Shayla, gesturing to it.

"Oh, FUCK THAT."

"It's acidic."

"It is MINDLESS. Are you seriously suggesting that an -acid blob- is intelligent enough to understand the concepts of worship and divinity?"

"If I may answer that with another question," Mimic said, rising.

"Go ahead."

"Can fire? Can earth?"

"Elementals can, yes."

"How?"

"The magical energies of the plane imbue them with sapience. I don't know if they updated the theory, but researchers suggested that there was sort of this ur-intelligence within the planes that they drew from which represented the sum total of knowledge gained."

"So they're smart because of the plane."

"Yes."

"Right, so let us assume that the gods decide to make an Elemental Plane of Wood. Wood is now an element."

"You read an awful lot of magical theory for someone who hits things with a club."

"Wood is now an element," she repeated, "and it has a plane. Would the first wood elementals, if and when they appeared, be intelligent?"

"Yes, in theory."

"Great. So let's say that all of a sudden there's a Plane of Slime."

Shayla opened her mouth to reply, but froze. After a few seconds she muttered, "oh Thoth, I really fucked things up, didn't I. Do you know how long this has been going on? Any reports from your friends about jellies and whatnot suddenly being smarter?"

"No idea. It may be reaching a head just now."

"So we could be dealing with an entire race of little mes out there."

"Maybe."

They turned towards the ooze, which had extended a thick psuedopod and had shaped itself into a roughly feminine form. Its expression was blank, but there was a faint flicker of understanding in its eyes.

Mimic gave Shayla a pat on the shoulder. "Congratulations. You're a mother now."

She gave her a look. "Fine. But so are you."

"Okay, I'll accept that." A beat. "Wait, no. What are we going to tell them if they ask why they have two mothers?"

"They reproduce through mitosis. If anything, they'd ask why they have a mother at all."


End file.
